Interdimensional Evility
by Vlad Domaklaoss
Summary: The Overlord was sent across dimensions to retrieve specimens of a fruit thing. Next thing he knew, he slammed headfirst into a pirate ship.
1. At First, Gnarl Was Greedy

(Beginning A/N):  
Yup, a One Piece-Overlord crossover. Betcha never saw THIS one coming.

Of course, given the weird combination, nobody will probably read it. Bah, I'll update it anyway, if only for my own amusement.

Anyway, for those of you who have never played Overlord: Red minions are fire-based; Brown minions are the generic Fighter-type; Gnarl is kind of perverted; and all through the games, I don't think the Overlord EVER had a line, which is why he doesn't say much of anything here; and you're missing out.

And for those who have not watched One Piece: You're missing out; Luffy, the one in the vest and hat, has a love for armor- he puts on any he comes across.

Finally: This is set post-Overlord 1. I haven't played the expansion, so I won't reference it (expect non-canonical irregularities). I will also try not to specify who became the Dark Mistress.

* * *

Leading his imposing Lord through the caverns, the elderly and hunched figure gave information on the task said Lord would be undergoing.

"As you know, sire, we recently acquired a magical 'gem of inter-reality transportation'- I took the liberty of forming a connection between it and the Tower Heart, and it seems we can get reliable visuals on these 'realities'."

Vocally silent, the massive figure kept pace (rather loudly) with his evil advisor, Gnarl.

"Through our testing, we've located two seemingly stable places that you may choose between- but, you may choose not to go altogether. We are not entirely sure if you will be able to return here using the gem, or if you will have to find its counterpart on the other side."

Gnarl reached the main hall, where the throne and the access pit to the magical Tower Heart resided; surrounding the glowing pool was a unit of Minion guards of varied color, who were standing at attention in the presence of their master.

"Here, we are, sire." The elderly minion approached the pool of magic-laced liquid, which had taken colors to present an image of the inside of a large structure. "This here is Option A: it is some sort of building where magical items of interest are kept. And sire, when I say 'building', I mean a really freaking huge one. I can't stress the 'huge' part enough. We could probably fit several full-scale replicas of the Tower in that place, it's so big."

The Overlord stood in his normal, silently threatening manner. He hadn't missed the small undertone of greed in Gnarl's voice when he mentioned 'magical items'.

"I recommend Option A for several reasons, sire: there are many different items of magic ability there, and if you must locate a counterpart to the gem, there's a good chance that it resides there. And also very many magic items. Did I mention that? Anyhow, here is Option B:" The image flickered and changed to that of an ocean. "While there seem to very little, if any, magic items in this place, there are other items of interest. Quaver, second image for Option B." The image shifted again, to a group of women in bikinis on a beach.

Within the confines his helmet, the Overlord raised his eyebrows.

Gnarl beat the jester over the head with his staff. "You fool! I said to put that one in my- eh, records stash! Never mind, just go to the next one."

With a snicker, the jester placed a different crystal on the Tray Of Showing Pictures; this one showed a pile of fruits covered in swirl patterns.

"These, while not looking especially delicious, are items locally called 'Devil Fruits'; according to legend by residents of this realm, they grant a single ability to the consumer, at the expense of being unable to swim or operate when submerged in liquid."

The Overlord still stood sternly, silently staring at the supernatural show of lights.

"We believe that if you, or your chief Minions, consume a specimen, your military force will multiply a considerable amount. The side effect of being unable to swim is not something that should be a problem; you'd drown even without the fruits, in your armor. Quaver, back to the first image."

The pool shimmered, changing back to the ocean view.

"There is a small problem, however. This particular realm seems to be almost entirely composed of water; the biggest landmass is some sort of seemingly endless ridge. However, Lord, there is a bounty of sailing vessels- you should have no trouble, ah, _persuading_ one or two to aid you."

Gnarl looked to the ruler of the Dark Tower. "Sire, these are the only two realms we have knowledge of at the moment. Option A, with a massive bounty of magic items that could bolster your power immeasurably, and Option B, which has fruits of a possibly magic nature that could _also_ reinforce your power. I feel I should add, sire, that we may be able to magically replicate these fruits for even more evility."

The heavily clad grunted in thought.

The elderly advisor gestured back at Quaver, who still held the image crystals. "Quaver! Go back to 'that' image."

With only a slightly confused look, the jester paced the indicated crystal on the tray. With a shiny shimmer, the pool changed to the scantily clad women on the beach.

"Sire, I should add this as well, if you're having difficulty deciding. The damsels of Realm B seem to be rather well endowed, as you can see. And, seeing as the Dark Mistress is currently on vacation in a faraway location, you might use some extra company of a certain sort."

Slowly, the Overlord turned his head menacingly to Gnarl, who felt the waves of suspicion quite well.

"Because, ah, sire, the ones from Spree have trouble maintaining the entire Dark Tower, so they could always use some more manpower. Well, womanpower. The Minions aren't too useful for cleaning, as you've probably noticed."

As if on cue, a nearby Red tripped over a loose stone and set a banner on fire.

"Sire, which will you pick?"

The Lord of the tower hummed softly to himself (although it came out an angry growl for some reason) in thought. The pool shimmered several times as Quaver alternated between the three images- storehouse, scantily clad females, fruits. Scantily clad females, storehouse. Then, it just stayed on the scantily clad women.

"Quaver, quit drooling and keep switching the pictures!"

Reluctantly, the jester continued to alternate the crystals whilst his master looked on. After a few seconds, a heavily clad steel hand raised itself, and the image froze on the fruits.

"Option B, sire?"

The gauntleted fist changed to a gauntleted thumbs-up. Gnarl grinned to himself, and shuffled over to a nearby pedestal, where a cloudy amber gem glowed.

"Sire, this is the gem of inter-reality transportation. The manual says that to teleport, you must clench it in your fist, and say 'there's no place like elsewhere' three times. I'll tune it to the Tower Heart so that your destination will not be random, but Option B."

The Overlord tromped to the pedestal, and lifted the small (but heavy) rock. It gave an aura of instability, which brought a twinge of unease to its wielder.

His advisor noticed. "Do not worry, Lord. We've reinforced it with the Tower Heart's magic, so it _shouldn't_ shatter once you go through. But, just in case, here is a watertight pouch and the incantation for a repair spell." The elderly minion gestured to a leather bag and a scroll held out by one of the guards.

The Dark Lord of the Dark Tower put the scroll in the pouch, and tied the small bag to a rung in his armor. With a self-assuring grunt, he walked towards the armory to collect his weapon.

"Sire, also: you cannot take any Minions with you! The gem only allows a single passenger!" Not even pausing, the Dark Master continued down the steps to the forge. Once he had left, Gnarl slipped one of the image crystals into a pocket concealed within his cloak.

* * *

Sword in hand, the tall & bulky Dark Master lifted the cloudy gem once again. The Minions had assembled a going-away party, and they all stood in anticipation- none of them had actually heard the Overlord speak before. He mostly communicated by grunting and pointing; the fancy administration was done either by Gnarl or the Dark Mistress.

"Remember, sire, to conserve your mana. We can't transfer energies through the link between you and the Tower Heart, and it does not seem that magic is common in Realm B." Gnarl stood to the Overlord's side, much calmer than the assembled Minions- he had seen many Overlords die, and this one was no different. Well, maybe a _little_ different. Gnarl would miss the guy, if only for a few days.

"A message arrived from the Dark Mistress as well, sire. She says, 'don't die, you owe me twenty gold from poker'." A smile crossed Gnarl's lips. "At least she's in good spirits, sire. You should be going; no reason to dawdle needlessly."

The Overlord closed his gauntlet over the gem of inter-reality transportation, his glowing eyes narrowing to slits in concentration. An air of tension filled the room as every Minion leaned forward in anticipation, eager to hear their Master's true voice. Gnarl even perked his ears, although he didn't move much else.

Every Minion present held its breath; the Dark Lord raised his fist high, gently allowing the gem's soft magic to encompass him. With a soft rattling rumble, akin to a distant earthquake, the Overlord drew a breath; the room filled with rattling wheezes as every Minion also inhaled.

There was a tense pause…

And the Overlord vanished in a flash of light and an explosion of smoke.

Choking, Gnarl staggered over to the Tower Heart's pool- the magical link between Heart and Master should reestablish once the Dark Lord reached his destination.

There was another suspenseful moment, this time filled with wheezing Minions and a hazy atmosphere.

Almost a full minute passed until the pool took on an image. Unfortunately, it was pitch black- and accompanied by a voice. Gnarl remembered it; he had recorded it himself, back in his youth.

"_We're sorry, the Overlord you are trying to reach is not available. Please try again later. If there is Evil to be done, however, GET YOUR ARSES MOVING AND FIND A NEW MASTER! Thank you for using Tower Heart Wireless. Have a nice day."_

Gnarl hung his head; after a moment, the Minions behind him began wailing in sorrow, their cries echoing through the grand hall and into the lands before the Dark Tower.

* * *

The Overlord squinted; the light was blinding, the spinning was disorienting, his sword was getting hot and something that sounded like a youthful Gnarl kept cheerily telling him that the signal to the Tower Heart had been lost due to magical interference.

_Conserve mana, my heavily armored ass_. Exerting more magical power upon the gem he held, the Overlord managed to lessen the wild spinning. The light remained, but at least his brains weren't being squished against his skull.

It was a long trip; he almost wished he had brought a snack. Not like he'd be able to eat anything mid-transit, though; in one hand, he held a gem that was pulling him violently forward, and in the other, a heavy sword that was gradually getting hotter.

The Dark Lord sighed; he had beaten several legendary heroes, defeated the previous Overlord (who was also an annoying powerful wizard), cleared the land of zombies, annihilated the dwarves, saved the elves (although he had begun to regret that decision; they insisted on delivering flowers every Tuesday), yet here we was, complaining about a warm weapon and a headache.

Seeing no end to the glaring light, the large man closed his eyes and prepared for a nap.

* * *

He was roused from his rest by… nothing. His eyes still closed, the Dark Lord tried to figure out what had awoken him- nothing felt off- he could breath, nothing had impaled him, there were no screams from terrified locals…

It occurred to him that when he had fallen asleep, he had had the sensation of being pulled forward, while being blinded by light- now, he instead felt like he was falling, and the gradually increasing wind was making it difficult to breath.

Wrenching his eyes open, the Overlord stared in shock as he accelerated downward, having just teleported several hundred feet above an ocean.

* * *

The navigator aboard the Thousand Sunny stretched her arms, happily absorbing the bright, early morning sunlight. A good restful sleep after a jolly party was a nice way to start a morning.

And she wasn't the first one awake, surprisingly- the distinctive clanking of weights could be heard from the crows' nest, and the light was on in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, the young woman looked upward with her eyes closed, gladly absorbing the sunlight.

For a split second, the sunlight flickered; there were no clouds, and she hadn't seen any birds about, so she was momentarily confused. A second or two later, a soft whistling, as though something was flying towards the ship, could be heard. The term 'cannonball' immediately came to mind, and the navigator dove for cover in the kitchen.

Ignoring the confused look from the cook, she glanced cautiously through a nearby window; the whistling got louder, but it seemed to be coming from… above? Why in the world would a cannonball be flying at them from the sky, of all places?

Weirder things had fallen from the sky, she realized. Cannon fire would be almost normal.

The sound got louder, and the cook stopped what he was doing; he could hear it now. Joining the woman at the window, he squinted towards the sky- and his one visible eye widened.

Smashing unceremoniously into the deck of the Thousand Sunny was a person. A large man, strangely bulky and heavy despite his apparent size. Heavy enough, in fact, to bash a myriad of cracks and knock the ship deeper into the ocean and jostle everybody on board.

Thrown backward by the impact, the woman rolled off the cook –he had managed to throw himself between her and the counter, and was now dazed- and crept to the window. The smoke was beginning to blow away, revealing a… suit… of armor…

The woman snarled to herself, angrily threw open the kitchen door, stormed to the dazed man in the armor, and yanked him off the deck.

"_LUFFY I SWEAR TO WHATEVER DIVINE ENTITIES WATCH OVER US THAT I WILL BEAT YOU INTO A NEW TYPE OF PULP FOR STARTLING ME AND BREAKING THE SHIP!"_

The armor twitched slightly, and the woman realized that the body was oddly heavy, even for one enclosed in a suit of armor.

Her rage lessened, replaced by confusion; her captain didn't weigh this much…

After a moment, the door to the mens' quarters burst open, and a young man in a red vest and straw hat stood there, a mix of terror and confusion on his face.

"_What did I do? You only just woke me!"_

The woman's head slowly turned to the male in the doorway, and stared at him in shock before slowly turning back to the man she was currently trying to strangle with his own cape. A fear slowly dawned on her as more details of the man broke through her mind: he was big. Very big, but not as big as the man-giants. Still large, though. And muscular. Quite muscular, he had as many if not more muscles than the resident swordsman.

And his eyes were _glowing_.

"Who's that? His armor is so _cool_!" The youth raced to the body, and he knelt over it. "Hey, big guy! Can I have your armor?"

The Overlord blinked several times. He had crashed headfirst into the deck of a very, _very_ durable ship, and then some woman began violently shaking him while yelling something about pulp and entities, and _now_ there was some kid asking if he could have the Arcanium armor.

Would he _ever_ have a normal day?

More to the point, the condition of the gem. With a heavy groan, the Dark Lord forced himself to his feet, opened his left hand, and eyed its contents.

The gem was split cleanly in two.

"_The Arcanium helmet detects that you are still alive! Congratulations, you have survived a fall from several hundred feet in the air. The Arcanium armor does not detect any life-threatening injuries, but you should still rest before setting off on your Evil quest. Thank you for using Gnarl's Overlord Damage Assessment, please have a nice day._"

Dropping the gem halves into the pouch, the Overlord looked at his audience. Two youngsters, near adulthood; the boy was grinning at him, seemingly pleased he was still alive, while the girl tried unsuccessfully to hide behind the boy.

Deciding to test the authenticity of Gnarl's Overlord Damage Assessment, said Overlord tried to take a step forward. He failed, and his mind immediately went to muck before he fell face-first into unconsciousness and a very hard deck.

* * *

Giblet sniffed, and set the heavy battleaxe next to the Tower Heart's pool. It stood out among the other tribute items, most of which were pictures of the Minions and the Evil deeds they had accomplished while under the command of the most recent Master.

Gnarl set a gnarled claw on Giblet's shoulder, feeling rather down himself. "We all loved the Evil bastard, Giblet. True, he sometimes did things of Good intent- but he was human, after all. Mistakes were to be expected."

The blacksmith Minion sniffed again, a tear falling down his cheek.

"But, for some reason, I don't want to think he's dead. Sure, he went to some other dimension where there's a bunch of water and he can't swim for crap. True, the manual said that the death rate with using the gem was 70%. But, for some reason I want to say…"

"_He's not dead!"_

"Is your voice normally that… girly?"

"Giblet not say anything..."

"Then… who…"

"_I like his armor! It's so… cool… and _shiny_!_"

"Is that coming from… Giblet, help me clear this mess!"

Roughly shoving a mound of rotten flowers aside, Gnarl knelt in front of the pool, desperately searching its shimmering surface for a visual from the Master.

After a moment, it flickered and brought a little bit of sound.

"_-the new deck! I wanna kick his ass!"_

"_Franky, it was probably an acci-"_

Gnarl frowned; the signal from the Master was extremely weak. But, he was still alive according to the people near his helmet. The Minion grinned gleefully, and turned to the shocked Giblet next to him.

"Giblet! Sound the bugle! Recall the messenger heading to the Dark Mistress! _THE MASTER IS ALIVE_!"

* * *

Again, he woke in a blur. He was beginning to sense a pattern- first, a blur where he was met by a bunch of reptilian gremlin things; then, a blur after the Dark Mistress had accidentally pushed him off the balcony of the Dark Tower during the wedding; after that, a blur after he smashed into the deck of a ship, and _now_, a blur while he woke confused and groggy amongst a bunch of young people.

The man growled at his own crap luck, sending at least three of the people around his cot running for cover.

"You're awake!" The youth from earlier, who had asked for his armor, grinned at him.

The man answered with a grunt.

"Can I have your armor?"

For some reason, the Overlord found that entertaining. Give the armor, which he had nearly died several times to get, to some kid just because he had asked for it?

"Is… he all right?…"

"I think he's laughing…"

"He won't be laughing after I pound his head in for damaging my ship!"

The threat stopped the Dark Lord's painful laugh. His head much clearer than before, he pulled himself from the cot and stood in front of the man who had threatened to attack.

Damn. That guy was almost as tall as the Overlord himself, taller if you included the ridiculous hairstyle.

"I don't think he liked your tone." The speaker this time was a man seemingly at ease, sitting near the back of the room; he had three swords next to him, and unkempt short green hair.

_Green_ hair?

The heavily armored man put a gauntlet to his head; he had to be insane. Nobody could have _green_ hair. At this point, the Overlord realized that the other tall man had light blue hair. Which was also pretty much impossible.

Although, insanity _would_ explain a few things. Like the goblin things that usually followed him around.

"_Mas-_ _hear m-_" Speak of the devil, he could hear Gnarl all of the sudden. "_Bad conn- -signal wea- -gem inta-_" The voice faded into a soft buzz. The Dark Lord put the disembodied voice under 'things caused by possible insanity'.

As if his day couldn't get any stranger, the Overlord realized that some sort of raccoon was watching him front the door. The raccoon had antlers, and a blue nose.

_Yup. Definitely insanity. I've gone bonkers, no doubt about it._

With a sigh, the man turned to the people still around his cot. An unusually tall woman, the boy who kept asking for his armor, the blue-haired man, the _green_-haired man, a blond guy who was asleep on another bed, and three people watching him from behind the door- another kid with an abnormally long nose, the reindoon, and the girl from before.

"Are you well?" It was the tall woman this time.

"**I would not argue if someone tried to send me to an insane asylum."**

**

* * *

**(End A/N):  
If anybody can guess what fiction Option A is from, they get ten points.  
Don't expect a regular update schedule; I'll probably write to this whenever I'm bored, or my Internet is malfunctioning for some bizarre reason.


	2. And Then, Gnarl Was Happy

I originally planned for this to have been completed around the 15th, but... long story short, the computer with the file was elsewhere. When I _did_ have access to the file once again, I couldn't get time to finish it and... well, it took me a week to write the final two hundred words of this chapter.

Non-One Piecers: Yeah, I'm too tired to think of something.

Non-Overlorders: Firstly, I took some liberties with Overlord magic. For instance, I am unaware of there being an actual Magic Tractor Beam. Secondly, all titles used to refer to the Overlord are actually from the game.

* * *

Brook sighed; they had gotten an interesting new visitor, and he had been told to keep watch while everyone else stayed with the big guy. Glumly, the skeleton hummed a soft tune whilst he viewed the ocean.

* * *

The Straw Hat Pirates were not of like mind on what to do with the newcomer. The captain wanted him to join the crew (an option immediately rejected by nearly everyone else on board) or surrender his armor (which he did not seem likely to do).

The navigator, marksman, and doctor got weird 'vibes' off the behemoth, and therefore wanted him to depart as soon as possible.

The shipwright wanted to kick his ass, for making a crater in the deck of the ship.

The chef didn't get much of an opinion, as he was still unconscious.

The musician wasn't present, so he couldn't say much.

The archaeologist and swordsman were both in favor of killing him before he brought them trouble; the captain immediately rejected this option.

They all, however, agreed upon one thing: he was strange. The armor made many of them nervous, the glowing eyes disturbed the softer members of the crew, and the soft light distortion surrounding him made pretty much all of them dizzy. Plus, his voice was weird- it felt like it reverberated through their skulls.

And there was the other voice coming from the guy's helmet.

"_Master! Splendid! You're still alive. It seems that if we exert extreme magical power upon the link, we can consolidate it long enough to talk to you for a few minutes. Unfortunately, this drains the Tower Heart rather fast, so it will need to recharge in between communications."_

Grunt.

"_As far as my estimates go, we actually _can_ transfer some mana through the link! We may be able to replenish some of your energy should you use magic. However, this means we will have to choose per charge: communication, or refill."_

Grunt.

"My, you're feeling talkative today, sire. By the way, it seems that you are on a ship of sorts- is there a crew?"

In response, the Overlord turned his helmeted head to look at the assembled audience.

"Sweet Evility on a stick! Sire, you have already stumbled upon two prime options for new mistr-"

The Overlord bonked the helmet with his gauntlet.

"_Ahem. Right. Anyway, what is the status of the gem?"_

A gauntleted hand withdrew the two shards from the pouch.

"Oooh. Have you tried the repair incantation?"

The helmet shook, side to side.

"Now's a good a time as any, sire."

With a sigh, the two gem shards were set on a table. Withdrawing the repair incantation from the pouch, the Overlord gathered his mana once again.

The assembled onlookers grew cautious at their guest's movements. The tall woman subtly crossed her arms, and the green-haired man's hand twitched towards his weapons. Ignoring these subtle changes, the large man held a hand over the shards, closed his hands, and concentrated.

Eight onlookers next to him, with the several spectators back at the Dark Tower, waited.

And waited…

And stared as the amber pieces shattered.

Every watcher blinked a few times.

"Well… that's certainly not good, Lord. It seems you'll have to stay in Realm B for a while. Is the weather agreeable?"

Grunt.

"_Well, that's good to hear. It seems the current charge is running out- it'll be a few days before we can connect again. Stay alive, Dark One; there are no worthy candidates for your replacement yet."_

A soft buzz signaled the end of the link a few seconds after Gnarl finished. Standing, the Overlord placed the repair spell into his pouch and turned towards his newfangled 'friends'.

Their cautious demeanor did not change; tensely, the two parties stood apart from one another, waiting for the other to move. The Overlord's eye twitched. The captain's eyes shone as he admired the man's armor.

With a tired sigh, the Dark One took a step forward.

The reincoon suddenly growing into a reindeer-gorilla took the Overlord by surprise, allowing the gorilladeer to punch him in the abdomen before he could react. With that blow, the Overlord realized that a few of his ribs were bruised and possibly even cracked. Eyes rolling back in his head, he collapsed with a _CLONK._

The crew stared in shock at the furry shape shifter.

"… He needs to rest, I couldn't just let him walk around with his injuries…"

"Did you have to _punch_ him, though? You could've damaged his awesome armor…"

"Well… he makes me nervous…"

* * *

After four days, the guest still wasn't waking (Not that anybody else would know, but it had been a long, _long_ time since the Overlord had gotten a good nights' sleep. The constant call of Evil kept every Minion awake at night, and the little buggers could be loud). Chopper said that it seemed to be because of background exhaustion on top of recovery rest, whilst Usopp insisted that the newcomer was trying to beat Zoro's long-standing record of eight straight days asleep.

Due to it being a slow week, schedules were flexible enough to allow shifting guards- it had been decided that because he was so suspiciously mysterious, they shouldn't allow him to be left alone for too long.

Zoro mostly napped on guard; Nami sketched drafts for her maps; Robin plowed through books; Franky either tinkered with something that had broken or adjusted a blueprint, and so forth. But none of them, not even Luffy, touched the armor; it radiated a kind of… presence, that made them want to edge away from the large man.

Robin had accurately described the feeling, during a dinner debate: an aura akin to darkness, evil. This statement brought silence, even to Luffy (although this was probably because he was choking on a bone).

* * *

"Gnarl! Gnarl!"

"What is it, Quaver?"

"The Tower Heart seems to be fully charged!"

"Splendid! Here, have a cookie."

"Ong nong mnom nyong"

"Try not to get crumbs everywhere, you dolt. This floor was _just_ swept."

Gnarl entered the throne room swiftly- Even from across the hall, he could see that the Tower Heart's pool shone with full magical radiance. Unable to contain himself, his wrinkled face split into a grin and his shuffling gait sped to the water.

"Quaver! Activate the link!"

"Om nom nom…"

The pool's surface shimmered brightly as the Tower Heart expanded the connection forcefully. Eagerly, Gnarl leaned closer to the edge of the pool, anxious to see what sort of havoc and chaos his Master had wrought since the last connection.

He was surprised when, instead of a burning landscape filled with similarly burning and screaming residents, he had a rather nice angle up the skirt of a young woman. Startled, Gnarl pin wheeled his arms and fell over.

Slightly dazed, Gnarl chuckled to himself; the Overlord seemed to have gone and enjoyed himself in a different manner than Gnarl had anticipated. Recovering from the pleasant shock, he leaned back over the pool.

"Master!"

The helmet did not sift.

"Sire!… Dark One!… DARK LORD!" Despite his yelling, the Master's helmet did not move even the slightest.

"What in the bloody blazes…" Gnarl held his head just over the liquid- sure enough, he could hear the Dark One's breathing; he still had the helmet on, so he _should_ be able to hear…

* * *

Unbeknownst to Gnarl, the Lord of Evil was still unconscious. Luckily for Gnarl, however, the Master's helmet was perched at such an angle on his head that it was pointed towards the navigator of the pirate ship, who was trying to avoid excess damage from an ink bottle falling over.

Said navigator cursed silently at herself- she thought she had heard a soft buzz from the man sleeping, which had startled her enough to knock a bottle of ink onto the pile of map sketches she had just finished. After several seconds of frantic reorganizing on the table next to the bed, she breathed a sigh of relief- nothing severe, the ink hadn't gotten _everywhere_ everywhere. Although Chopper would be slightly miffed to learn that the still-new furniture in the infirmary had a brand-new ink stain.

She was about to reorganize the stack of maps when she thought she had heard a voice- it sounded like it was coming from nearby, but was quiet. Frowning, she turned back to the armored man. His eyes seemed to be closed –they weren't glowing, at least-, and his breathing was still deep and regular.

The voice seemed to be coming from his helmet. Curious, Nami leaned in close.

"_SIRE! SUPRESSOR OF FREE JESTER SPEECH! ELF LOVER! PEASANT PYROMANIAC! WENCH BANE! MOST OVERCONFIDENT MASTER! PURGER OF THE PERVERTED PALADIN! __**SIRE**__!"_

Nami blinked. A tiny voice, coming from the weird man's helmet, was yelling nonsense. _Maybe his self-proclaimed insanity is contagious_.

"Hey… You! GIRLIE! Red-head!"

Jumping back in surprise, the navigator almost tripped over the chair she had been sitting in not moments before.

"_Quaver, increase the volume! There we go. You there! Can you hear me?"_

Shaky nod.

"_Ah, at least the transmitter's not broken. What have you done to our Master? Why is he not responding? Or moving?"_

"The… big armored guy?"

"Yes! The Dark One!"

"He's… unconscious right now…"

"_Oh. That explains it, I su- wait, why would you say 'unconscious' and not 'sleeping'? What have you done to our Lord?_"

"Nothing! He's been asleep for several days now!"

"_Oh. Really? Strange. Could you please wake him, then? This line won't last too long."_

"Uh, how would I wake him without… inducing violent reflexes?"

"How in the blazes should I know? Try poking him with a stick."

Looking around, Nami searched for a suitable 'stick'- she settled for the chair, grasping it by the backrest and using its legs to poke the stowaway.

ClunkClunk

"_Try harder?"_

_Clonk_

"_Oh, don't be a pansy!"_

_CLANK_

As far as rude awakenings went, the Overlord had had worse; although being beaten with a chair while Gnarl yelled into his ear was certainly one of the more disorienting ones on the list. And damn, was Gnarl being _LOUD_.

"_**MASTER! SIRE! YOU'RE AWAKE! SPLENDID! QUAVER, TURN THE VOLUME BACK DOWN!**_ _MORE! There you go. Dark One, can you hear me?"_

Aforementioned Dark One cradled his ringing head in his hands, grunting in pain.

"_Good! From what I've heard from the girl with the chair, you've been having a nice nap. Now's not the time for sleep, Lord! There's Evil to be done and gems to be found! Get a move on, the Minions are getting uneasy in your absence._"

Irritated grunt.

"_Oh, cheer up, Lord. It's a brand new realm to pollute with your presence! You should be _excited_! I know _I _am. Although that may be the aftereffect of the splendid view I had a few moments ago. Nonetheless, you need to get to work, Sire! I'll talk to you again in a few days!"_

The audio cut out again as the Tower Heart ran out of energy. Slowly rising from the cot, the Overlord clumsily regained his balance on the rocking vessel. It was a sharp contrast to stable land, and the armor certainly altered the experience.

Wincing, the Purger of the Perverted Paladin placed a hand over his damaged ribs, almost regretting his choice in realm.

The girl still brandished the chair, unsure of what to do. The Purger's wheezing breaths probably didn't contribute helpfully to his already threatening demeanor.

The Wench Bane painfully straightened his stance, slowly raising his gauntleted hand in as much of a soothing manner as he could manage- after a moment, he realized that it probably looked like he was about to try and hit her.

So instead, he backed away from the young woman slowly; this seemed much more effective in calming her down.

Some things never change… I go new places, and the people are already uneasy around me.

It occurred to him that something was missing; turning, he scoured the small medical facility for a large object he hadn't had for some time.

It wasn't there. The Peasant Pyromaniac turned to the girl, who had only just set down the chair.

"**Sword?"**

Yeesh, the mere mention of a weapon was enough for her to grab the chair.

"**Was there a sword with me when I… arrived?"**

"N-No…" Nami suppressed a shudder; his voice was _extremely_ unnerving.

The Dark One suppressed a sigh; there were reasons he didn't talk often. But, the lack of his weapon made him nervous- the Arcanium blade was not something he wanted to lose. The thing had been bloody _expensive_, and several Minion sacrifices had gone into improving it.

The ship was moving- if it had been keeping a steady course for the entire time he had been out, the place where his weapon landed would likely be very far away. But, there was still a small chance, one that he felt he had to take.

Gently pushing the girl aside, the Ruler of the Ruined Tower exited to sickbay. He seemed to be near the back of the ship- the best place he could be, for what he was about to do; anywhere else would risk damage to the vessel.

Calming himself, the Dark One turned to the girl who had followed him out.

"**Which way would be where I first landed?"**

With a confused look and a second of thought, she pointed back and to the port a little. Nodding in gratitude, he raised his hand, palm facing towards to indicated direction, concentrating and focusing his mana to the task at hand.

The armored man grew more and more strange when he was awake. The first time would have been when he slammed aboard, the second when he had caused that weird gem to shatter, and _now_, where he stood, hand outward, eyes closed, concentrating on nothing in particular.

He seemed intent on what he was doing. Taking advantage of this, Nami hurried to the nearest Straw Hat crewmember.

The news that their passenger was moving around brought all but one crewmember to the back of the ship (Zoro expressed more interest in his nap).

The Dark One hadn't noticed the girl leave, let alone return with several of her friends. His senses were straining backward, combing the seas for the magical aura of his weapon.

It took several minutes, but he did eventually come across its faint signature. Opening his eyes, he allowed himself a victorious smile before blasting all the mana he had into pulling his weapon towards his outstretched hand.

The assembled crew members felt their hair stand on end (except for the living skeleton, who couldn't really feel his hair nowadays) as the shimmering light distortion surrounding the man-in-a-can intensified greatly- instead of making them just a little bit dizzy like normal, it made their eyes burn and water as their sixth senses screamed at them.

It didn't seem to be affecting just them, either- the local seagulls were scattering, and the few fish to be seen near the surface of the water immediately swam away. Had they paid any attention, the crew would have also noticed ripples in the water, moving away from the concentrating individual aboard the _Thousand Sunny_.

* * *

Captain Vonvarr of the Marine caravel _Bucket_ sniffed the air; something didn't seem quite right. There was some sort of soft, electrical feeling in the air, and such a feeling never bode well for Justice.

Scratching his head, he looked around- the only other things out of place were the panicking birds, frantic fish, and the weird, distant _whooshing_ noise he could swear he was hearing, and getting closer.

Squinting off the port bow, he tried to make out where the noise was coming from. It certainly didn't sound like a cannonball; they normally whistled, not _whoosh_ed.

His curiosity wasn't answered in quite the way he was hoping, as he was knocked unconscious by the pommel of a flying sword that hit him in the face.

* * *

Silence was not something to be suspicious of. However, when Monkey D. Luffy is your captain, that generally meant that A, something interesting was happening, B, the idiot had fallen overboard, or C, the captain's narcolepsy had kicked in. For pretty much all of those options, Roronoa Zoro felt he could safely ignore the events happening elsewhere on the ship.

However, when this silence was accompanied by his hair trying to stick out in more directions than normal, his curiosity grew just a tad.

But, still not enough for him to abandon his nap. Closing his eyes, the swordsman went back to sleeping the afternoon away.

* * *

It was not extremely difficult to conceal oneself, when so many of your crew are bigger and of higher priority than you. Usopp, for instance, had found out he could hide behind many of the smaller crew (save Chopper, half the time), and go unnoticed because he looked weak and had a low profile.

Currently, he was watching the spectacle from behind Brook –who seemed to be trying to keep his afro from going spiky-, speculating on how the _Sunny_'s guest was doing what he was going.

_This electric feeling… the Rumble-Rumble fruit? No, Enel had that… plus, he didn't make our eyes hurt when we looked at him. He has to have _some_ kind of Devil Fruit, though; it's pretty much the only way to explain what he's doing; although it may just be me going crazy. Except that I'm probably one of the sanest people on this ship..._

The rest of the spectators were thinking similarly to Usopp –similar to most of his train of thought, at least-, and were considering what type of Devil Fruit their guest had. It would help if they knew more about him, though; it was difficult to determine ability based on: 1: wavy, 'evil' aura, 2: glowing eyes, 3: making nearby people feel like they were being exposed to low-voltage electricity, 4: talking helmets, 5: falling from the sky, and 6: having a voice that made them all cringe on the inside.

But, he wasn't giving them any help in that regard. He just stood there, palm outstretched, for several minutes. Some of the Straw-Hats were even thinking of going back to what they were doing, until Usopp moved to the railing next to the can-man.

"Usopp…?"

The marksman didn't answer, instead lowering his goggles towards where the armored man's hand pointed. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was standing next to the man he was 'somewhat' terrified of at the moment, his curiosity taking priority over fear for the time being.

"What is it? Is there something cool over there?" The captain sounded eager, as usual.

"No… well, maybe… it looks like there's something flying towards us…"

"Is it another guy in armor?"

"No, it looks to be too small for _OH MY GOD IT'S A FLYING SWORD!_" Terror regaining immediate priority over even common sense, the marksman dove for cover behind Nami.

"Why are you hiding behind _me?_ _And what did you mean by a flying sword!_"

"E-Exactly what is s-sounds like…"

None of the other crewmembers had quite the eyesight of the scared sniper; they couldn't see anything detailed about the little dot on the horizon. The tension rose even further as the assembled crew leaned ever-so-slightly forward, curious to see what had terrified Usopp and what the armored man was doing.

Several seconds passed, and one by one, the crewmembers' jaws dropped as they witnessed a rather large sword flying rather fast towards their ship. As they realized the speed at which it must have been moving, several of them either took defensive stances or hid inside the sickbay.

A few more seconds passed…

Sanji, the chef, set one foot on the rail, preparing to jump and kick the weapon to redirect it; Franky, the shipwright, prepared to unleash some of his cyborgian arsenal; Robin, the archaeologist, raised her hands to… do something; the captain's eyes still shone brightly at yet another cool thing to happen that week, and everyone else… well, they were watching through the sickbay window.

The weapon wasn't showing any difference in speed or direction. With a low growl, Sanji tensed his muscles and prepared to jump and intercept.

"**No.**" It was the first time the chef had heard the man speak. While he had heard exaggerated rumors of the man's voice, he hadn't anticipated such… _force_ behind just a single word. The shock alone ended the cook's movement.

Franky fired several shots from his arm, but they all missed the narrow and fast-moving target- with a growl of his own, the tall shipwright expanded one of his shields and moved to cover the frozen chef.

Robin did not do anything, for two reasons- the man had indicated, with a single word, that the weapon should not be interrupted; second, the same man had changed his stance- from extreme concentration to a more relaxed posture; like seeing the sword brought relief and ease. This did not stop her, however, from scooting slightly to the side of the weapon's trajectory.

The Exploder of Melvin Underbelly was indeed relieved- the reality of the Arcanium blade before him assured his mind that he was not, in fact, going bonkers. Bracing himself once again, the Overlord moved, as fast as he could, and grabbed the flying weapon out of the air.

The transfer of motion sent the Overlord skidding backwards, gouging furrows in the deck. The force of the weapon wrenched his arm, and he nearly hit several of the assembled crew- but, he had his trusty sword back.

Holding his aching shoulder, he turned back to his new acquaintances. All but one were staring at him in shock (that last one was staring at him in amazement); apparently, flying swords weren't particularly common in this dimension. Heck, they weren't common in _his_ dimension.

"So... COOL! Can you teach me how to glow? Or make weapons fly at you?"

The Overlord stared at the straw-hatted boy in wonder. _He must be extremely dense, or fearless..._

In an attempt to raise his weapon, the Overlord realized that the sword had been moving very, _very_ fast. Dropping the item he had just gotten back, the man fell to his knees and cradled the arm that was burning with six kinds of pain.

"Awesome-man! Are you all right? Is your armor damaged at all?"

"I think he's injured again, Captain." From brief shock back to her standard, calculative gaze, the tall woman didn't seem to be fazed by much.

_Every time I awaken, I just get hit with more and more pain..._

_Ocean's pretty, though._

_-Clonk-_

* * *

I'll have you all know that when you subscribe/favorite a story of mine, it puts me under pressure to maintain/increase quality, which can make me stressed. However, if you _don't_ subscribe/favorite, it makes me think that my story is absolute crap, which makes me want to discontinue it. I think I will call this "Emo Writer Syndrome".

And the "-_Clonk-_" at the end was the Overlord passing out. Again. Quick question, should I use hyphens on the sides of sound effects like that? I was thinking it could get confusing otherwise, since I am italicizing thoughts in this story.

Finally, expect another delay for Chapter 3. I realized earlier that I have more than ten weeks of schoolwork to do, and a little over two weeks to do them in. Plus I've recently grown addicted to _Arrested Development_. Man, I'm really bad with priorities.


	3. Lord of Evil, Steve

(Beginning A/N)  
Sorry about the delay, I've had a busy weekend. And if you're curious about 'Steve'... well, it was the first thing that came to mind, and it stuck.  
Non-OPers: Yes, Chopper is in fact a shape-shifting reindeer. He also wears a big pink top-hat; and, uh, can't think of anything else.  
Non-Overlorders: I can't remember _exactly_, but I think the Shield spell negates damage done to the caster. I'm not certain, since I didn't use the spell.

After I started writing this FF, I began wanting to play Overlord more. Alas, the game disc is currently being borrowed by someone.  
(End beginning A/N)

* * *

It took three of the Strawhats to drag the large man to the infirmary and put him back in the now sagging cot. Their doctor stated after a short while that the man's arm was dislocated and fractured, from the impact brought by the weapon.

The sword itself was a subject of admiration; Usopp and Chopper were admiring it from a distance, as the weapon, like its owner, had a soft glow of 'evil' around it that disturbed all but a few of the _Thousand Sunny_'s crew.

Next to the sword was a swordsman who felt that nobody should be messing with the other guy's weapon. His glare was much more repelling than the aura.

The owner of the Awesome Flying Mystery Weapon was only unconscious for a relatively short duration, only a few hours instead of most of the week. By the time his eyes once again opened, the only other person in the room was the green-haired man with three swords, who was sitting next to the Arcanium blade.

"So… you're awake again."

Grunt.

"Heh. From what I heard, you made a rather interesting spectacle earlier."

Inquisitive grunt.

"They said, you stuck your hand out, the air around you got wavy, and then a sword came flying out of nowhere."

Grunt.

"And then, you pranced about while singing a ballad about fairies and butterflies."

_I certainly don't remember that part._ Grunt.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

Shaking of the head.

"Figured. I took the liberty of watching over your sword, to prevent the morons aboard the ship from messing with it."

"**Thanks**."

"No problem."

The Overlord pulled himself noisily from the sagging cot, transferring his weight from the damaged-beyond-repair springs to the sturdier flooring. He seemed to be mostly unhurt, except for a beslinged arm, which he looked at curiously.

"Dislocation and fracture, from the alleged flying weapon."

With another grunt, the Overlord reached for the culprit. The other man tensed only slightly, watching with a calculative gaze. Grasping the Arcanium blade's handle, the Dark Lord once again felt calmed by his sword; he let out a soft sigh.

"You like that weapon, don't you?"

"**Visually pleasing.**"

The green-haired man briefly grinned before rising to his feet. His expression swiftly turned sincere, as he stood before the armored behemoth from the skies.

"I'll say this once. I will not abide the harming of this crew, nor will any of the other members. If you harm one of us, we will all hunt you down and kick your ass."

"**Crew of friends?**"

"Something like that. It'd be a pain in the ass to find a good replacement for half of these buffoons, in any case."

With a nod of understanding, the Overlord set his weapon back down on the bench; it wasn't like he'd need to use it in the middle of the ocean. The green-haired man returned to his seemingly standard cautious posture, although he was still tense and prepared.

The two continued to stare at one another, waiting for their opposition to make a move.

After several seconds, the Dark Lord extended a hand. The green-haired man smiled with but a corner of his mouth, and accepted the outstretched limb.

"Roronoa Zoro."

"… **I don't know my name.**"

"Oh?"

"**I am referred to by title. My name has become forgotten.**"

"So what is your title?"

"**There are several. Dark Lord, Overlord, Dark One, Master, Wench Bane, and so forth.**"

"Wench Bane?"

"**Long story.**"

"Ah. I'll call you… Steve."

"**Steve?**"

"Steve."

"**All right, then.**" With names determined, the two men dropped the handshake.

"I've got to go back to watching the ocean. Feel free to explore, but try not to break more of the ship."

"**No guarantees.**" With that, Roronoa Zoro exited the sickbay. 'Steve' glanced between the two doors in the medical facility; there was the one he knew went to the back of the ship, as well as the door the swordsman had just walked through. Brushing his fingers across the hilt of the large Arcanium sword, Dark Lord Steve -_clonk_-ed his way out of the infirmary, using the door to the rear of the vessel.

It was a good-sized ship, once he had rounded a corner to see. He hadn't been on too many boats, so he lacked side comparison, but it certainly seemed large enough to comfortably give ten or so people a place of residence.

Blinking from the light change, the Dark One scanned the ship for more of the crew. Other than the swordsman ascending the mast to an oversized crows' nest, about half the crew was visible. The armored behemoth went for the nearest group- the strawhatted one, the long-nosed one, and the weird shape shifting one, all of which were fishing.

The three of the crew were absorbed in their sport, and did not hear the Overlord's grass-muffled footsteps approaching.

"Chopper, could you hand me the bait bucket?" The long-nosed one began pulling his empty line back in.

"Yeah, sure." The reindeer reached for the bucket, which he could see out of the corner of his eye. However, when he pulled on it, the can didn't budge. Confused, Chopper turned his head- and found he was looking at the leg of a suit of armor. With a surprised yell, the doctor stumbled backward, nearly falling overboard.

"**Hi.**"

The long-nosed marksman turned, and saw who had appeared behind them. With a shocked scream of his own, the big-nosed one scrambled away from the large man. The straw-hat, unfazed by the surprise visitor, grinned happily.

"Hello! So you're awake? That's great! Do you like fishing?"

There were never many occasions for fishing, when you ruled an Evil Empire. It was always slay this, maim them, mistressify her, conquer that, et cetera. He never got much time for a hobby.

"**Haven't tried.**"

"Where are _you_ from? Almost everyone has fished before! Here, grab a rod."

The Dark One looked at the two companions of the straw-hatted one; they were both watching him with cautious and scared faces, trying to stay as far away as possible. The Overlord shook his head.

"**Maybe later.**" Turning from the youth, Wench Bane approached the were-reindeer-thing slowly, and knelt about five feet from it. The creature certainly was a peculiar thing; the reindeers from the Overlord's dimension didn't have blue noses. "**You shape shift?**"

"Y-y-yes…"

"**Explains a lot.**" The Dark Lord slowly rose from his crouch, and turned back to the other two fishers. The fearless/dense one had returned to watching the ocean, while long-nose was hiding behind the fearless one.

It would take time for them to relax a bit around him, it seemed. Deciding to leave them to their business, 'Steve' continued his exploration of the upper deck. His next destination, the prow, brought him to a strange loop of thought:

The ship had a giant sunflower thing as a figurehead. It was like he had walked into a children's story rather than an alternate dimension. Heck, maybe the alternate dimension _was_ a children's story. Or maybe the true dimension was his dimension's idea of a children's story, with his homeland being a story of its own. Or, maybe he was over-thinking it and the ship simply had a sunflower figurehead.

Or was it a lion? Or… sun? The question stumped the Overlord. The figurehead distracted him to the point that he didn't see the other occupant of the deck.

"It's a sun."

Startled grunt.

"The figurehead; this ship is the _Thousand Sunny_." The dark-haired woman raised her gaze from her book.

Enlightened grunt.

"Do you have a name?"

"**Steve.**"

"… Steve?"

"**Steve. You?**"

"Robin. What do you do for a living, 'Steve'?" The perceptive woman put an emphasis on the word, like she could tell it wasn't his actual name.

"**I… rule.**"

"Rule?"

"**And conquer. Command.**"

"A king?"

"**Of sorts.**"

Robin contemplated; he didn't _seem_ evil, yet it felt like evil had wrapped itself around him with a strong grip. "What kind of commander were you?"

"**A Dark One.**" He said 'dark one' not as a type, but a title. This increased her suspicions.

"Would you go so far as to say… evil?"

"**Yes.**"

Robin raised an eyebrow; that answer came a lot faster than she had anticipated.

"**What do you do?**"

"Archaeology."

_If that's all you do, then I'm Santa._ The woman reminded the Overlord of someone with an unpleasant past. "**Merely an archaeologist?**"

"Just a person with a want for history." The woman leaned against the railing, and reopened her book.

With a frown, the armored man left the bow deck. He felt… evaluated. Returning the favor, the Overlord walked down the steps to the grass-covered deck at the center of the ship.

When he stated that he was evil, she seemed slightly surprised- however she had hinted with previous questions that she had been steering towards that question, meaning that she had caught on to the feel of his presence. Going out on a limb, the Overlord guessed that this Robin character had known a type of evil.

_Quite the range of people in this crew_, the Dark One thought to himself as he returned to the rear of the ship. _A man who carries three swords and has green hair; a boy possibly without fear; another boy possibly without courage; a were-reindeer-gorilla, and that girl from earlier._

He was about to go to the rear door of the sickbay again, when he saw another door facing the front of the ship; curious, Steve changed direction and entered the room behind the door.

"Luffy, if that's you, dinner's still not going to be for a couple hours." The speaker was a blond man in mostly black clothing who had his back turned to the door.

"**Luffy?"**

The blonde man cringed, and whipped around, clearly startled once again by the reverberating voice. Standing at the door of the kitchen was the large man in armor, who had fallen out of the sky and then made a weapon hurl itself at the ship.

"AH! It's you!"

"**Indeed.**"

After a few breaths, the man calmed himself down and set the knife he was carrying on the counter.

"So… how's things? Any more objects fly at you today?"

"**Not that I've noticed**."

"Good to hear. What's your name?"

"… **currently Steve.**"

"Currently? Steve?"

"**Steve.**"

"Okay, then. I'm Sanji. Would you like something to eat? You've been out for a few days, you must be hungry."

"**I can wait.**"

"That's a nice thing to hear, in this group. So how'd you get in the sky the other day?"

"**From what I've seen, you would not believe me.**"

"I've seen something today I can't believe, yet it happened. It involved a certain sword."

"**Fair enough. I got in the sky with magic.**"

The chef began laughing suddenly, but stopped under the gaze of the glowing eyes. "You're being serious?"

"**Yes.**"

"There are many things in this world that are called magic, but can be explained. Could you show me some of your 'magic'?"

"**I can manage a small demonstration or two. Firstly, do you have something that could be roasted?**"

"Roasted?" Slightly confused, Sanji withdrew a slab of meat from a pile of ingredients. The Overlord placed it in the palm of his gauntlet, and prepared the little mana he had left for a small burst of Flamethrower.

-_FWOOSH_-

Maybe 'small burst' was slightly wrong; the Overlord hastily waved out the fire he had made on the ceiling. Setting the ham on a nearby plate once the fire had gone out, the Dark One prepared for the second half of the demonstration.

"**When I say to, hit me.**"

"Hit… hit you?" Sanji's shock at the pillar of fire changed back to confusion at the request.

"**Yes; not terribly hard, though.**" The blond man nodded, and walked around the counter to stand in front of the armor. "**Ready?**"

"Yeah."

The Overlord would only be able to maintain Shield for a few seconds. Gathering the last of his mana, the man-in-a-can raised his gauntlet once more, and said "**Now!**"

The blond man reacted swiftly, launching a kick- however, a thin, misty bubble formed itself around the Dark One, barely quick enough to materialize before the man's shoe connected.

A look of surprise crossed Sanji's face as his leg was stopped completely by the bubble. The eyes of the man within the orb widened slightly as a portion of the kick's force transferred onto his body –_damn, that is one strong kick_ -, forcing him to release a light grunt before the spell ran out of mana.

Even after the sphere faded, Sanji kept his leg raised, his face projecting his surprise. After a few seconds, he set his foot back on the floor.

"What was that ball?"

"**Shield.**"

"One of your abilities?"

"**Yes.**"

"What the hell kind of Devil Fruit do you have?"

Something pinged in the Dark Lord's mind. _Devil Fruit… Gnarl had said something about…_

'These, while not looking especially delicious, are items locally called 'Devil Fruits'; according to legend by residents of this realm, they grant a single ability to the consumer'

Overlord Steve raised his head, looking back at the inquisitive Sanji. "**I do not have a Devil Fruit, however I am looking for some.**"

"You… don't have one? Then what was that ball? And how did that sword fly at you? _And how did you get in the sky?_"

"… **Magic.**"

"Right, right, _magic._" The man sighed, and returned to the ingredients he had been preparing. "You'd better get some rest, then. Dinner will be along in a couple hours."

"**Before I go, would you please tell me their names?**"

"Of the crew? Yeah, okay. The green-headed dimwit's Zoro, the long-nosed dimwit is Usopp, the blue-nosed reindeer's Chopper, the big half-naked guy's Franky, the skeleton's Brook, the lovely orange-haired lady is Nami, and equally lovely dark-haired woman is Robin, I'm Sanji, and the doofus with the hat is Luffy, our captain."

"**He… is your **_**captain?**_**"**

"Believe it or not, he's the strongest guy among us."

"… _**skeleton?**_"

"Yeah, it's one of the Devil Fruits."

"**Rgh. Thanks.**" Processing the information, Steve walked through the door at the back of the kitchen- his estimate was correct, the door did indeed lead to the sickbay. –_Plonk_-ing his helmet on the chair by the bed, the Dark One laid down on the groaning cot for a nice nap.

* * *

Meals with the straw-hatted captain Luffy were apparently quite festive. The boy alone rivaled the antics that several Minions reached when they ate. The rest of the crew seemed to prefer eating in silence, although this tended to change into argument when their captain tried to steal food.

The Overlord could do naught but stare at the ensuing chaos whilst he consumed his delicious victuals. It did remind him of home –the chaos, not the food-, a bit. The yelling and swearing made him think of the little buggers that followed him everywhere.

"So will you join our crew?" The young captain had approached Steve while he had been lost in thought. Startled by the question, the armored man blinked.

"_Like hell you're asking him!_" Simultaneously, a kick, a staff, and two punches connected with the youth and sent him flying.

The long-nosed marksman, Usopp, gazed into nothing in particular; "He would make a good distraction in an emergency, though…"

"_You_ want him to join?" The orange-haired girl seemed to find this particularly shocking.

"I'm just thinking about the strategic possibilities! With his armor, he already has a high defense, and with his abilities and stature he'd keep the attention of anybody for a good length of time!"

The Overlord had to agree with that last point, people did seem to notice him in a fight. He had even used this tactic a few times, distracting his enemy while the Minions flanked.

"We can't just let every random guy join, though."

"Fair enough, but I'm thinking _strategic value_."

"Usopp, answer me one question. If you turned a corner and walked into me, what would you do?"

"Eh, I'd probably say, 'Hi, Nami'."

"And if you walked into _him?_"

"I'd… uh…"

"Scream like a little girl and run away."

"Hey!"

Ignoring the irritated protest of the marksman, Nami turned back to the armored man. "So we won't allow you into the crew! You're kind of creepy!"

"… **I wasn't going to accept…**"

"Oh. Well, if you were going to, you couldn't have." Sheepishly, the woman sat back down. The captain recovered from the earlier attack, and stood next to the Overlord once again.

"What! Why wouldn't you join us?"

"**Responsibilities. I need to find Devil Fruits."**

"Aw~… they don't have Devil Fruits where you came from?"

"**No. We have magic instead**."

That statement, the Overlord suspected, would have been laughed at if he hadn't summoned his sword earlier.

"Say! Could you teach me some of your magic?" The captain leaned forward, eagerly.

"**Afraid not; it requires certain… items.**" Items that the Overlord had to bust his butt to find back when he was avenging the 'death' of the previous Dark Lord. He wasn't highly inclined to offload their capabilities.

"Aw… how long will you be with us, then?"

"**I do not know. Until I find a way back home, and a Devil Fruit.**"

"How did you get _here_ in the first place?" This time it was the orange-haired girl, Nami. "We've fallen out of the sky before, but there were no clouds around when you did."

_What do clouds have to do with it?_ "**The gem that shattered transported me.**"

"Oh… then it breaking was a bad thing?"

"**Very.**"

The shipwright muttered something about his boat breaking, before he left the dining room. Steve had his suspicions about the shipwright's agitated demeanor, and Franky had bee giving him a dirty look every few minutes. Contemplative, the Overlord rose to his feet.

The grin on Luffy's face fell. "Is something wrong?"

"**I must try something. Excuse me.**"

There had been what looked like temporary patching done over where he had crashed the other day. The ship didn't seem to be made from a common type of wood, so it seemed safe to assume that the wood was uncommon, even rare; something that could not be replaced cheaply, in short.

Opening the pouch he had set by his bed, Steve withdrew a small scroll. He dimly remembered being told that it was good for three spells, meaning he had one or two still workable…

* * *

Franky growled to himself as he stood over the crater in the deck. _That bastard came out of nowhere, damaged the ship made from expensive-ass material, and they're treating him like a pal..._ Kneeling in front of the crater, the shipwright lightly touched one of the shattered planks of Adam-wood.

After a few seconds, the crater began glowing. Withdrawing his hand from the damaged wood, the shipwright leaned into the crater curiously.

_-Whonk _-

Clutching his face, Franky fell on his arse. _Did the floor just hit me in the face?_

Once he recovered from the initial shock and pain, the shipwright looked back at the crater. Rather, where the crater _had_ been, as all that was there now was the temporary patching he had put in; the damage itself was completely gone.

* * *

In the sickbay, the Overlord removed most of his armor and set it next to the cot; the dinner had made him sleepy, and the repair incantation drained the very last of his mana. As it was, he had barely managed to repair the hole he'd made; the other damages on the ship would have to be done later, or manually.

For the first time in this dimension, the Overlord fell asleep without being knocked unconscious or passing out. It was a nice feeling.

* * *

(Begin end A/N)  
Because of the whole crew-separation shtick going on in One Piece, my knowledge on how the characters interact and their personalities has faded somewhat. It probably doesn't help that my stories are lacking where dialogue is concerned.

Really? Nobody has guessed correctly what fiction Realm A is from? Very will, I shall deposit a hint: the fiction would belong in the category 'TV Shows'.  
(End End A/N)


	4. The Rock, Is Cookin'

(Beginning A/N)

Re-Uploaded: FanFiction hates my techniques. I took this chapter down because FF took out my extra spacing.

Um, wow. Nearly a month since I uploaded chapter three. VERY SORRY!

Non-Overlorders: A Blue Minion is the only one capable of resurrecting another Minion, and it is the only one capable of attacking with magic, and I can't think of anything else to put here.

Also, Gnarl picks the best moments to activate the link.

(End beginning A/N)

* * *

The elderly minion yawned out of boredom. Without the Dark One around, there was little Evil to do; the Minions had been trying to occupy their time with board games. Monopoly? Bad math. Risk? They kept eating the pieces. Scrabble? The minions' average vocabulary was laughable.

And so, for the last few days, Gnarl had tried to entertain himself by having things in the dungeon fight each other, and by keeping an eye on the servants cleaning the tower (although the latter resulted with Gnarl being hit with a poker). It got boring fairly fast; nothing quite compared to the thrill of knowing your Master was off pillaging.

But, if all went according to schedule, the Tower Heart should be nearly done recharging- and Gnarl couldn't _wait_ to see the terrors his Master had inflicted upon the untainted Realm B. He could see it now: men screaming their puny burning heads off, women begging for mercy from the Dark Lord, children experimenting with drugs, villages burning like the wood they were made from, endangered species spontaneously combusting- Gnarl got giddy just thinking about the disorder his Master could be causing.

* * *

Narrowing his glowing eye-slits, the Dark One contemplated his opposition. They were numerous, shifty, and likely packed much more punch than they looked like they could. Checking his armor and weapon, the Overlord raised his hand.

It would be a tough fight, undoubtedly- he would lose a considerable amount of health. Nevertheless, he had to find the kidnapped maiden and rescue her before the village was overrun by zombified giants. With a final glance at his enemies, the Overlord prepared to roll the dice in his hand.

"**I'll go for the troll.**" -_Rattle_-

The marksman eyed the resulting roll and nodded. "You've hit him, now go for damage."

-_Clatter-_

"Oooh, you've severely injured the troll. However,-"

-_Rattle, clatter_-

"Two of the orc knights have hit you, both for five damage."

"**Crud.**"

"I'll sing a lively ballad to the beautiful magic-user to liven her spirits!" Sanji, his heart a-flutter in the presence of Robin, declared.

"That would be nice, I have a poor chance of managing to stab them."

High above them, in the crows' nest, Zoro's eye twitched. It bothered him enough that they had even _asked_ him to participate in Dungeons & Demons, but now he had to _listen_ to them play it. And he couldn't even believe the turnout they'd had- on top of Luffy and Chopper, the regulars, Usopp had managed to get Steve and Robin interested enough to join in- and since Robin was doing it, Sanji had jumped at the opportunity to get closer to her.

Scowling at nothing in particular, the swordsman tried his best to ignore them and continued watching the oceans.

* * *

The Dark One yawned; there was little to nothing for him to do aboard the _Thousand Sunny_. They had determined that, while he was accompanying them, he could be a decoy in fights and an assistant negotiator whenever they needed to... well, negotiate.

But, those were jobs only useful in a fight or when there were other people to talk to; not so much when they were in the middle of the ocean. He'd occupied his days with trying to replenish some mana by collecting ambient energy (didn't work), meditating (didn't work), sucking the energy out of various living things (it didn't work, and now the fish in the tank were terrified of him), and even Luffy's suggestion, "eat more" (didn't work, and the stomach ache wasn't going away easily).

He didn't even want to _try_ helping in the kitchen, as he had accidentally burned down Spree the last time he tried to cook. Helping with navigating was also out of the question, he'd gotten lost in his own Dark Tower several times. He was better at breaking things than fixing or making them, so carpentry was not an option, and music wasn't something he was any good at.

So, he spent a majority of his time off to the side, thinking about how he could find a Devil Fruit and get back home to the familiar land of Evility and terror.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the damnedest clue as to how to do either task.

On the bright side, he had at least gotten the crew to stop running for cover whenever he walked by. Usopp had even invited him to a game of Dungeons & Demons, which was very similar to something Steve had played back home; participating made him feel nostalgic.

_Hah... here I am, the Lord of Evil, feeling homesick._ Smiling to himself, Steve leaned against the railing and continued to watch the ocean.

* * *

Across the ship and in the dining room, Sanji looked out the window; the armored man was at the forward deck, watching the seas. At the dining table sat Nami and Zoro, the former reading a newspaper and the latter performing maintenance on his katana.

"I still don't think we should be trusting him."

The navigator raised her gaze from the paper, looking at the chef. "Oh?"

"He feels... I don't know, evil. Like Robin had said, when he first got here."

Zoro glanced at Sanji. "Yes, you're right. He's a demon, Hell incarnate, who has wrought havoc upon the world and made it worse. He should be eradicated at all costs, oh yes."

"Are you mocking me?"

"Just saying, this crew has been branded as evil many times now. Are you doing the same to him?"

Sanji glanced back out the window; Steve was now watching Luffy, Usopp and Chopper fishing. "No, but... well... he's... different. He says he can use magic, but he has not demonstrated any since the day of the flying-sword incident. Then, there's that creepy distortion around him, and his eyes... he fits half the stereotypes of being evil, you know?"

"You scared of strangers now, Pervanji?"

"Wanna say that to my face, Greenhead?"

Before they could leap at one another, Nami stood with an air of agitation. "Can I not even read a newspaper in peace? You dolts are both right. He is unsettling, and definitely a suspicious person. But, that is not enough to brand him as a villain." With that, the navigator stormed out of the kitchen.

The chef hung his head in shame, realizing that he had indeed interrupted his beloved Nami's newspaper reading. Zoro smirked, and continued working on his blades.

* * *

In the sanctum of his workshop, Franky was at a loss. For several days, he had been sitting in his work area, examining one of the planks that had 'magically' repaired itself; for those several days, the best he had figured out was that the plank was perfectly normal. Yet, as far as Franky knew, Adam Wood lacked the capabilities to suddenly fix itself.

For the third time that day, the shipwright opened one of the books that held the story of the legendary Adam Wood, searching for any reference t self-repair.

* * *

-Later...-

Frowning, Robin closed yet another heavy volume. Another failure- she could not find any reference to this 'Arcanium' substance. Not in any legend, no myth, not even a fairy tale.

* * *

The large man slowly ran the whetstone across the edge of his blade. He'd managed to buy the stone off Zoro for about ten gold coins; the man had gladly accepted it, saying something about using the gold to lower a debt from the 'sea-devil-witch-demon', or something along those lines. Steve didn't ask any questions.

That morning had been, as usual, uneventful. Back in his home realm, Steve went and slaughtered sheep or perused the dungeon to entertain himself. Unsurprisingly, the _Thousand Sunny_ lacked a dungeon, so Steve had joined a game of Dungeons & Demons to pass the time.

Looking at his blade, the Dark One once again felt that he deserved a nice, peaceful retirement; not completely, mind you, as Gnarl continuously told gruesome stories about how the other Overlords 'retired'.

Placing his whetstone in his belt pouch, Steve leaned his blade against the railing. It was a rather nice change of pace, not killing everything he came across.

Hearing footsteps, he turned his head slightly; Robin, the woman who seemed to always be slightly suspicious of him, had ascended the steps to the forward deck and seemed to be headed in Steve's direction.

Looking to the ocean, Steve wondered what strange question she can conjured for this afternoon.

"May I see a piece of your Arcanium?"

Steve blinked; he hadn't quite expected _that_. Most questions regarding his armor seemed to consist of 'can I have it?'. "**Uh, sure.**"

The Duke of Domination removed his helmet, passing it to the curious woman.

* * *

"Tower Heart ready!"

"Splendid!" Shuffling his ancient self once again, Gnarl left the servants to what they were doing, rubbing several bruises from pokers.

The pool once again shimmered with its normal glistening magicity, making Gnarl feel elated once again. The Master should have recovered, meaning that there should be carnage.

Gnarl sneered to himself; _Sweet, delicious carnage._

"Start the connection!"

Quaver pressed a small button next to the pool, and the liquid sparkled even more. Gnarl leaned forward, once again expecting a meadow of burning peasants.

He was once again pleasantly surprised, when he got a rather spectacular view down the shirt of a rather well endowed woman.

Laying on his back on the floor next to the pool, Gnarl sighed a happy, yet irritated, sigh.

* * *

Steve furrowed his brow; he thought he had heard a soft noise. Glancing at his helmet, which Robin was still examining, it seemed like he could hear the light buzz of the Tower Heart's connection.

"**May I have that back for a moment?**" Plonking his helmet back on his head, Steve's suspicions were confirmed.

"_Master? Master! Sire, I really must protest. You should be off destroying villages and burning landscapes, not gallivanting around with all the pretty ladies!_"

"**Mana.**"

"_You require a refill, sire?_

"**Yes.**"

"_You should have said that faster! Quaver, shut down the communications line and blast him with the Tower Heart's energy!_"

The buzzing ceased, but began again a few seconds later. Absorbing the energy contently, the Overlord felt relieved- being able to cast spells made him feel safer. Once the flow stopped, Steve estimated he was roughly three-fourths full- not as much as he'd like, but probably enough for fight or two.

Removing his helmet, he passed it back to Robin, who had a strange look on her face.

"So... you gallivant often?"

"**No; Not my style.**"

"Ah." The woman resumed her inspection of the helmet, trying to seem as if nothing had happened.

* * *

A few minutes later, the archaeologist closed the door of the women's quarters, and tried to catch her breath. She felt like someone had just tried to suffocate her, and it was not that great of a feeling.

Seeing that she was alone, Robin checked her temperature- _nothing too bad, but maybe I should visit Chopper later..._

Sitting on her bed, she felt quite... derailed. After the man had put on his helmet for a few seconds, his strange aura had returned- and became even stronger. Instead of just making someone's eyes hurt, it seemed to drastically increase the air pressure, making it much more difficult to breathe; it had taken nearly all of her concentration to keep her composure.

And then, it receded again, returning to being a plain eyesore. Steve had handed back his helmet, as if nothing had happened, and after the aura incident, she couldn't focus enough to examine the helmet enough.

_And just when I thought he might just be a little bit normal...

* * *

_

Grumbling to himself, Gnarl whacked Quaver over the head with his staff.

"Ow! What that for?"

"I'm irritated! The Master should be off wreaking havoc and carnage, and he's philandering about!"

"Maybe... Master need break?"

"Evil can never take a breather! We need to endlessly push forward, killing mercilessly and destroying those self-righteous hypocrites that call themselves heroes and knights of good!"

"Maybe he unable to destroy right now?..."

Gnarl waddled over to and sat on one of the steps in front of the Dark Throne, in the Dark Hall of the Dark Tower. "Just from the little I've seen of his surroundings, he could have wrought havoc already; there were men there he could have killed, women he could have turned into servants... even the ship is still in pristine condition! Ooohhh, I'm going to have a severe talking-to with our Master when he returns from his _vacation_!" The short and elderly Minion stormed off, in the direction of the Minion Hives.

* * *

The megaphone below the crow's nest boomed, "Island ahead."

The report was was met with a chorus of cheering, and the crew gathered onto the various decks to look towards the next land mass- Steve among them, still on the foredeck, looking towards their current heading.

What he saw was a bunch of rocks in the middle of the ocean; more like a giant pile of rubble than an island. Nevertheless, the _Thousand Sunny_ sailed onward, accompanied by the energetic excitement that Luffy carried.

* * *

Several minutes later, Steve had to say that the island was rather... misleading. At first, it seemed that the 'island' was a decent size; however, once they got there, it was about the size of Spree, maybe even smaller; the _Sunny_ was about a fifth of the size of the outcropping.

This did little to diminish the eagerness of the captain, though. As soon as they had docked, he had jumped off and begun searching for anything interesting, followed by Chopper and an eager Brook. Everyone else, except for Sanji and Franky, followed.

Steve was at the back of the group, looking grimly across the rocks. The last time he'd been in a landscape that was barren before he got there, he had giant sand worms trying to eat him and exploding territorial bugs. It wasn't a fun experience.

Unfortunately, the island was not flat; there were large spurs of stone all over the place, making it feel like someone had dumped a pile of rocks in the middle of the ocean, for no apparent reason; and given Steve's luck, that probably meant that either A, there was a family of rock golems, or B, the island itself was one big damned rock golem.

Shaking his paranoia, the Prince of Persecution followed the crew in their exploration of the giant rubble pile.

To each their own, it seemed; Zoro hunted for a place to nap (although he kept circling one spur of rock, for no apparent reason), Luffy, Chopper and Brook continued their quest for excitement or anything of interest, Franky looked for anything he could turn into carpentry materials, Robin began examining 'peculiar' rocks, and Nami looked for any sign of how long it would take their compass to reset, and Steve himself began looking for Gems of Inter-Reality Transportation and a Devil Fruit.

He realized that the chances of the first island having either of those items would be next to nil, but he was bored.

* * *

After nearly an hour of searching, Steve reached several conclusions. Firstly, rocks were boring. Secondly, his armor was getting hot. Thirdly, Zoro probably went insane, because he was still circling one of the big rocks, and lastly, he wanted something to drink.

He had just reached the far end of the island, in any case; there had been pretty much nothing of interest. With a disappointed grunt, he turned and began trudging back towards the ship.

He didn't make it all the way there; about halfway to the vessel, his eyes opened wide and he froze in his tracks, not believing what he was feeling.

Somewhere below him, inside the island of rock, a strong magic pulse reverberated.

Steve stood there, in a shocked silence, trying to verify the regular beating of magical energy.

Other than what he had brought with him, nothing magical was seen on the Detector of All Mannerisms of Magic and Interesting Things that was infused into Steve's armor; other than this island, most of Realm B was bland and magicless. The most non-natural energy that had been detected was in the Adam Wood that the ship was made of, and that was about as magical as a Blue's toenail.

Ditching his plan of going back to the _Sunny_, the Purger of the Perverted Paladin began searching for any type of entrance that would lead into the island.

* * *

"There's nothing here that indicates when the Log will reset! It's _annoying_!"

"Not only that, there's nothing here I could turn into nails, or patching material. All I've found are rocks, rocks and rocks!"

Carefully ignoring the complaining of the shipwright and navigator, Robin traced her finger lightly over the small, worn mark on the side of the boulder. It looked as old, if not older, than the writing on the Poneglyphs; of course, it could have just been a mark from another stone rubbing against it. Frustrated, the dark-haired woman stood and gave a soft, disappointed sigh.

"Robin? Is something wrong?" The navigator stopped glaring at her Log Pose log enough to notice the archaeologist's frustrations.

"No; this looked like it might be an ancient letter, but it's too worn down to tell. It's _probably_ nothing, but..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve trudge by, scanning the rocks for something.

"But?"

"If it _is_ the remnant of ancient writing, then it looks like it's half of the word 'Door'."

The armored man froze, and slowly turned his head to stare at the trio.

"Door? Like what, 'door' as in 'entrance'?" Franky asked, taking a minor interest.

"How many types of door-" Robin's question was cut off as Steve gently pushed her and the rest of the present crew away from the boulder with the mark on it. Before they could react, their stowaway knelt in front of the rock and set his gauntlet on it.

"What are you-" Her sentence was again cut off as Steve rose and pushed them farther back from the rock, before turning to face it.

Steve narrowed his eyes at the boulder. His plan would take a considerable amount of mana- he'd probably only be able to do this once or twice with his current level.

The shipwright approached him, from behind. "Oi, what the hell-"

"**Take cover."**

The two women and the blue-haired man blinked at Steve in confusion.

"**Quickly.**" Steve activated Sanctuary, his absolute strongest Shield magic.

He had taken the time to explain a few of his spells, when the days were going slowly. They knew what most of them looked like, from his descriptions; they seemed to catch on, and immediately moved behind the armored man and his orb.

Giving them two seconds to relocate, Steve took careful aim and snapped his fingers four times, in quick succession.

Nothing happened immediately; the three behind him crouched tensely, covering their heads while the tall tin can stared intently at a rock.

After several seconds, the rock began to glow a soft red, and steam; small cracking noises were audible, and they could feel the waves of heat from more than twenty feet away.

With a satisfied smile, the Overlord hurled his sword into the rock.

Explosively shattering with an ear-wrenching shock wave, shrapnel pinged off Sanctuary and the surrounding rocks, filling the area with smoke, sparks, and flashes of light.

Once the big chunks had stopped raining, Steve lowered Sanctuary and turned to the people who had been behind him. Franky was on his back, with a large lump on his head and a big rock next to him, Robin was staring in horrified shock at the debris, and Nami... she was still hiding behind Steve.

The Dark Lord was about to pull his sword out of the ground, when Robin turned to him; the dust and the angle of her head made it difficult to see her face, but Steve could tell she wasn't happy.

"That... might have... had writing on it..."

"**You said yourself; it looked like 'door'. I opened it."**

She raised her head, and Steve could tell she was _definitely_ not happy. "There might have been more! It could have been an artifact!"

"**Ah... sorry. But, it looks like it was actually a door.**"

Robin stared at him for a second, before turning towards where the rock had been; sure enough, slightly obscured by the smoke and airborne debris, there was a cavern. Undeterred, the Overlord walked to the entrance.

His pace halted, as he saw something just behind where the rock had been; however, it then accelerated drastically, and he covered the short distance swiftly, stopping before a small pile of some sort.

Approaching more slowly and covering her nose and mouth from the dust, Robin followed. The man was kneeling in front of something she couldn't quite see, and he was more still than usual.

"Did you find something?"

Steve could not answer her; all his senses were frozen as he looked at a skull that was wider than a human's, but shorter with a triangular jawline and several sharp teeth, setting on top of a pile of bones that was just under half the size of a human.

Steve stared in shock, at the skeleton of a Minion.

* * *

(Ending A/N)

So! Excuse for being so late? Minor writer's block, and schoolwork. Seriously, I still have a lot of schoolwork to do. It sucks when you fall stupidly far behind.

Since nobody has figured out what Realm A is, I'll reveal it: Warehouse 13. It's a TV show. I like it.

How do you people FIND this crossover? Someone added it to their Alerts, when I hadn't done anything to it for a month. A MONTH.

Finally, you get three points if you realized that the abbreviation was DAMMIT, and expect another stupidly long delay on chapter 5.

(End)


	5. He's Not Clumsy, It's Just Dark

(Beginning A/N)

I'll save the excuses for _after_ you've read this chapter, so you'll be less focused on how long it's taken me to get the fifth chapter done.

People who have not read/seen One Piece: The 'AaaAAaAaAAAaA' is a grappling hook built into a belt buckle; Fresh Fire is a flamethrower-like ability made possible by Franky's cyborg-ness. I have mentioned that he's a cyborg-like thing, right?

People who have not played Overlord: The Spawning Pits are the residential area of the Tower where the Minions... well, reside.

(End Beg. A/N)

* * *

The Giant Slayer carefully arranged the bones in the sunlight, his mind rolling through the possibilities; he could dimly hear someone trying to speak to him, but he was busy trying to convince himself that the skeleton was not, in fact, a Minion.

A few moments later, he grimly stood and glared at the old bones; they were baffling him. Besides the fact that he wasn't entirely sure how a Minion's skeleton was put to together, this particular body wasn't like the Minions that occupied the Dark Tower. It had no tail, like a Brown, but also feet that looked like they had once been webbed- like a Blue.

The Dark One turned towards the cave. He needed to speak with Gnarl, but until he could, he'd have to do some exploring into dark, damp places that reeked of mold and long-dead things.

Much like the Spawning Pits, in fact.

With another bout of homesickness, Steve tromped into the cave, leaving Robin staring after him in confusion, Franky dazed from a rock, and Nami approaching the location of the ex-door, choking slightly on the dust that still lingered.

"Where is Steve g- _what is that?_" Jumping backward, Nami pointed at the corpse.

"He went inside, and he did not answer when I asked that very question. Twice." Robin turned back to the cavern, thinking. "That body seemed to have unsettled him- a lot. Back when he described his 'magic', he went into a small amount of detail of his 'Minions'- do you remember?"

"Kind of. Dang, this thing'd be _ugly_..."

"Based off what he had described, I think that this," Robin gestured towards the body that Nami was both trying to stay away from and look at, "was once a Minion, or extremely similar."

"Oh..."

"But, I don't know why he blasted that rock apart, when I said that it _might_ be a door; our guest has made me even more curious." Without another word, Robin followed the armored man into the cave.

The navigator looked towards where the archaeologist had been standing, only to find it vacant; there was no sign of the other woman, save the quickly-fading footsteps coming from inside the hole.

"Robin...? Robin! Ugh... hey, you, get up!" Irritated, Nami went over to and kicked the shipwright.

"Ow! _Not_ super! I might have a concussion!"

"Isn't your head made out of metal?"

"It's still a problem if it gets a dent!"

"Well, you look fine. Come on, we're following them in."

"Shouldn't I lay down-" Seeing the glare, Franky decided it would be better for his health to do as he was told.

* * *

Zoro furrowed his brow. _That rock... it looks like the one I saw just a moment ago..._

He was about to dismiss it as coincidence, when he noticed a footprint in a patch of dirt, on the rocky terrain. Curious, he placed his own foot in the mark.

And scowled.

Slightly irritated, he pulled out one of his blades and made a mark in the ground before continuing on his suspiciously circular journey.

* * *

As much as he liked the dark, Steve also liked being able to see where he was going. For the fourth time that minute, the prongs on top of his helmet slammed into a low area of the ceiling.

Removing the excessively tall piece of headgear, the slightly dazed Overlord continued tromping and scraping down the ever-spiraling stairway, in the ever-darkening gloom.

Not far behind, Robin followed the _-thuds-, -clangs-, _scrapes and slightly muffled cursing that emanated from the slightly agitated man.

* * *

"This doesn't seem safe, Luffy..."

The captain grinned at the marksman, who was standing on the edge of the island. Luffy himself was dangling over the side, lowering himself to the next rock that jutted outward slightly. "I saw some sort of cave entrance down on a ledge near the waterline! I wanna check it out!"

Usopp leaned slightly farther over the ledge, to try and see the mentioned ledge. However, the wind suddenly pushed at his back, leaning him farther over the edge. The ensuing reflex burst landed him roughly eight feet away from where Luffy was still trying to climb downward.

"W-w-w-windy..."

Even Brook seemed eager; a quick "yohohoho", and the skeleton had hopped off the edge and was hanging off the captain's shoulder.

Usopp stared after the musician, in shock. Clutching his side, in equal shock, was Chopper.

* * *

-_Clonk clank clonk clank clonk CRANG clonk clonk SHRAKK-_

The volume and variety of obscene language flowing from Steve increased, until he at last reached the end of the stairway. With a final _-CLAWANG_- as his shoulders slammed into the sides of the narrow entrance, the Overlord found himself in a dark room. A very, very dark room. Damp, too.

With a _-conk-_ and a -_CHSHRANK-_, Steve took one step and tripped over a rock; his oaths ended quickly.

If part of the darkness had a conscience, it would have smiled softly to itself; the streams of swearing would make anything a bit twitchy, and Steve's... detail made it even more unsettling.

But of course, it couldn't understand the large metal man who was laying half-conscious in front of the stairway that led back to the surface. It also failed to notice the woman who carefully felt her way out of said stairway.

The darkness can be quite oblivious when it wants to.

* * *

_In hindsight_, Robin thought to herself, _maybe I should have brought a lantern_. Feeling that the walls suddenly stopped, and that the steps had finally reached an end, she concluded that she had arrived at the bottom of the stairway, in a cave of some sorts. That had no light, whatsoever.

Blindly, she slowly walked across the extremely uneven floor.

"Steve? Steve? Are you here? Steve!" frowning, she tried to listen for his trademark clanking- nothing. Only the distant sound of water (the cave was most likely far below the ocean surface), and the gentle echoes of her own breathing.

Taking another slow step forward, she ever-so-slightly _nearly_ lost her balance as the ground became smooth once again.

Acting independently from its owner's conscious thought processes, Robin's boot softly prodded the lump in front of the stairway.

* * *

"How long does it take to get a _lantern_ working?"

"It's dark, I can't see the damn thing. Doesn't help that I'm still woozy."

"Get over it and get that lit; I don't want to hurt myself because of a loose stone, or something."

"When someone lands on a giant rock in the middle of the ocean, a lantern is not something people generally accessorize with. I'm trying to make one out of nails and _rock shards_. These aren't the perfect materials for the job."

"Here's an incentive, then: if Sanji finds out that I got hurt because of something _you_ failed to do, what do you think will happen?"

"... I'm learning, day by day, why Zoro dislikes you so much..."

* * *

Steve's mind floated. He could vaguely piece together enough information to figure out he was still conscious, but... that was about it. It certainly did not help that his head, which hurt like a frikkin' Dwarf had landed on it, also felt like it was being whacked by a hammer, over and over and over and over...

For a brief moment, the abuse stopped; as the pain subsided enough to piece together one and one again, Steve could figure out what sounded like distant voices; however, when he tried to listen to what they were saying, his mind crashed and set itself to idle until the burning stopped.

* * *

"Nami? That you?"

"Robin! Yeah, Franky's here too. But, there's no _light_ yet."

"I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it..." Franky's voice was accompanied by clicking and grating.

"Be careful, there's a rock-"

"WAH!" With a surprised cry, the younger woman tripped over the lump and was barely caught by Robin.

"-in front of the stairway."

The navigator tried to regain her footing, on what felt like the transition between lumpy and smooth sections of the floor. "Franky, _get some damned light_!"

"Hang on, hang on... There!" With a final -_clirank-_, a small fire was lit (with a small bit of help from a low power Fresh Fire), illuminating the dark cavern with a flickering reddish glow.

"Light, has arr- AOW!" Seeing the spectacle in front of him, Franky enthusiastically cried out and gave the duo a thumbs-up.

Nami quickly stopped leaning on the taller woman, glared semi-murderously at the shipwright and took the 'lantern' from him. The first realization was,

"_Daaaaamn_ this place is big... I can't even see the ceiling, let alone another wall..."

Followed by Robin's notice of, "More writing... may I see the light for a moment?"

As the archaeologist examined cave paintings and the navigator looked for anything like a sign that said 'LOG POSES TAKE _ AMOUNT OF DAYS', Franky gave the area a bored once-over. The pillars were old and made of stone, but he could tell they were still sturdy; as long as no nitwit nearly broke one or two of them, there should be no prob-

-_SHWINK_-

Following the thundering of several rocks falling from the ceiling (which originated from a hole that was nearly two feet from the nearest ancient support), a certain green-haired swordsman landed on the ground, sheathed one of his blades, look around, and noticed Franky.

"Yo. How'd you get down here?"

"I took the stairs! But, never mind that, LOOK AT WHAT YOU ALMOST HIT!" Franky gestured towards the narrowly-missed pillar.

"Oh. Would that have been bad?"

"VERY."

"Ah, well.. What is-" Above him, Usopp hooked the AAaaaAAAaaaAA to the edge of the hole, and began to rappel down with Chopper. "-this place?"

"I don't have any idea. By the way..." Franky leaned closer towards Zoro, and motioned towards the woman who had been too interested in the writing to see what the noise was, "You might want to avoid Robin- you know, because you chopped a hole and rained debris down into an ancient cave. Oh, and _why_ did you make a hole?"

"I... was looking for a place to sleep, but after a while... I found I was..." Zoro struggled to think of a different way to put it. He failed. "Circling... a rock... for several minutes..."

* * *

The giant hole in the ceiling allowed enough light to see with, eliminating the need for the lantern (which hadn't even been lit for three minutes). Taking the proffered lamp from Robin, Nami finally noticed what had made the floor uneven.

"_Steve!_"

* * *

The swirly images were slowly reorganizing, but Steve still couldn't summon the focus required for solid thought.

"_Steve?_"

A single word from beyond managed to break through into his mind; _it sounds like a familiar phrase_...

"_Steve!_"

_Steve... sounds familiar... was that a dog's name? No... maybe my own? That makes more sense..._

"_If you aren't going to recover any time soon, then I'm going to use you as a chair._"

The words were beginning to make sense, and Steve recovered higher levels of brainpower.

It took several more seconds, but he got enough control to push himself off the floor. He still had to go slowly, though. His skull still hurt, so he didn't want to risk quick movement.

There was also a weird weight on his back that gave off a startled cry as he began moving.

* * *

Gnarl stood by the pool once again, sporting three poker-shaped bruises.

"Quaver, were you able to configure it to work correctly?"

"Yes; and Giblet help!"

"Good... show me what got through."

A few minutes after the last transmission with the Overlord, Gnarl had made a plan- if they spiked enough power through the connection, there should be enough power to send immobile images through the link, allowing him to periodically see what the Master was doing.

Gnarl had become suspicious of the Dark One's dedication to evil, and just wanted to make sure everything was going well. There were absolutely no hopes that he'd catch the Master doing anything raunchy, of course.

As the jester fiddled with various items next to the water, Gnarl attained his best evil-evaluating look: the Eviluative Glare.

The first image solidified onto the pool: a giant rock in the ocean (rating: Undeterminable out of 5). Another image drifted across: Standing on the giant rock (U of 5). There weren't even any plants to make the rock more interesting. The third image came onto the water, and Gnarl was filled with hope.

Debris! Chaos! Rocks! Falling things! Undoubtedly, this meant that he was waging chaos and mayhem! (4 of 5)

The fourth and fifth images showed nothing interesting; they were pitch-black (U of 5). The sixth one, however, was in dim light- enough of it, however, for there to be a grand view of the two women on the ship, with one leaning on the other. (Requires Context to determine Evility; U of 5)

After several seconds, the seventh image arrived, and Gnarl felt more hope for the Evilness of the Overlord- MORE falling rocks, debris, and other things fitting of evil-doing! (3.8 of 5)

After a few seconds of admiring the slightly destroyed scenery, Gnarl reviewed a few of the pictures once again. Just to be sure his first Eviluations were accurate, of course.

Some time later, he nodded and left the pool, with a remark to the jester: "Our Master's doing the wrong thing again, Quaver- I feel like doing a jig!"

* * *

"How much does this hurt?

"**Aaagh.**"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"**You have hooves.**"

"Oh, yeah. How many fingers is Usopp holding up?"

"**None**."

"I was supposed to be holding up fingers?"

"It would help."

"**Three.**"

With a slight nod, Chopper leaned back. "You don't seem to have a concussion, that's good."

With the wooziness gone, Steve could stand without immediately falling over. He took advantage of this, and rose. Now that there was light (thanks to a gaping hole in the ceiling), he could see that the cave was big- a majority of the island was probably hollow, which meant that the light from the hole (whose creator seemed to be staying far away from the archaeologist) did not permeate the entire blackness.

The Overlord hoped that someone else thought to get more lanterns from the _Sunny_, because he wasn't going in that direction. Plonking the Arcanium helmet back upon his head, Steve took the makeshift lantern that was setting nearby and went towards the throb of magic that the DAMMIT was detecting.

Watching him whilst feeling slightly ignored, the medic and marksman did not move. Chopper almost tried to stop the armored man, but Steve's aura increased slightly, warding him off.

* * *

The historian of the Straw Hat Pirates was slightly befuddled by the carvings and writings; some portions were in the ancient text she could read, vaguely describing a foreigner who had brought an island with him. Other parts were crude cave paintings of goblin-like creatures chasing sheep, and being patted on the head. A third type was a completely different type of language that she had never even seen before, and the last one she could find was a blend of the writing on the Poneyglphs and the 'new' kind.

The best she could figure out from the hybrid was 'strange man _ sheep _ horns upon shoulders _ foe of foes _ agreement', before the writing stopped, worn away by many years of corrosion.

The archaeologist was about to start on another pillar, when she saw Steve walking into the darkness with the 'lantern'; Robin remembered the incident before, when he had blasted down the possible door without question. Fueled by a want to discover more about the strange language, she followed the Lord of Evil, the Wench Bane, and the Duke of Domination into the shadows.

The man's aura of distortion had gotten stronger since he entered the cavern; even in the dark, she could see Steve's wavering outline.

It got even easier to see him when there was the sound of a metal clashing against a rock and a short stream of curses, before the light of the lantern illuminated enough of the way for Robin to avoid tripping over rocks as much as Steve seemed to.

* * *

Meanwhile, back near the stairs, the rest of the crew loitered.

The first to speak was Nami. "Usopp, Chopper... weren't you with Luffy and Brook?"

Usopp looked up from his trinkets. "Yeah... they went rock climbing."

"Rock climbing?"

"Rock descending would probably be more accurate, now that I think about it."

"But... I don't remember seeing any cliffs on the island, other than... _they went climbing down the edges of the island!_"

"Y-yeah..."

"_Neither of them can swim!_"

"Oh... right..."

* * *

The captain frowned. He thought he'd seen a door on the ledge, but all that was there now was more rock. And the ledge itself, of course. But no door. However, a thought struck him.

"Brook! Grab on!"

"Yes, sah!"

Not entirely thinking the risks through, the captain reached for a handhold to the side of the ledge, and began swinging around the side of the island.

"Luffy, might I ask where we are going next?"

The captain grinned, and grabbed another rock to continue swinging. "I think I saw some kind of ledge from the ship, one with a door or something on it; that one doesn't have anything like that, so I'm gonna go around the entire island 'till I find that one I saw!"

"Ah, a truly tenacious plan!"

"Tena-what?"

"In other words, you won't stop until you find your door! Yoho-" The skeleton's laughing was cut short as Luffy misjudged an angle, and nearly sent the pair flying off into the ocean. After that, he clung tighter. "My face, I believe it is turning blue- but I do not have skin to change color! Yohohohoho..."

* * *

Back aboard the ship, a lone blond man muttered to himself, crumpled a piece of paper, and threw it in a bucket. A few minutes later, another sheet was discarded. Then another sheet, until he finally threw down his pen and declared,

"Fine! I shall express my feelings not through poetry or song, but through a dance!"

That idea was also soon discarded, after a wave bumped the ship slightly and sent him over the railing. After that, he glared damply and gloomily at the surface of the island, trying to catch a glimpse of his beloveds. Unfortunately, all he ever saw was his idiot of a captain, swinging around under the edge of the island.

* * *

* * *

(Ending A/N): Okay, excuse time. It's totally the fault of Fullmetal Alchemist! A-and late schoolwork! And Bleach! And Trigun! And me getting my copy of Overlord back, and then playing it! And Guild Wars is also to blame! And- you know what, I'll simplify it for you: Blame the entertainment industry! But, wait! The entertainment industry inspired this story! So you can't do anything, right?

... right?... please don't kill me...?

Any way, I have a newfound respect for Eiichiro Oda (creator of One Piece). He can keep track of like, a bajillion characters. And what can I do? Forget that, in chapter 4, I first wrote that Franky was staying on the ship- but, through miraculous transportation, he's looking for materials five minutes later. _Amazing!_

Just watch- since there was a 4 week gap between 3 and 4, then a 6 week gap between 4 and 5, I bet there will be an 8 week gap before the sixth chapter.

(End End A/N))


	6. Smells Like Chicken

(Beginning A/N)

To those who have not watched One Piece: Yes, Robin can, in fact, sprout body parts from nearly any surface. And if there are other things you're wondering about, the One Piece Wiki is hella useful.

To those who have not played Overlord: The prongs on the Arcanium helmet are ridiculously tall. Seriously.

Readers, remember! If you leave a review, it tells me what you think of the story on the whole, or about a particular section. It helps if you let me know what parts seem stiff, or if some parts move too quickly or slowly, etc.

(End Beg. A/N)

* * *

The Lord of Evil may not have the best memory, but he certainly did not recall the island being quite so huge when he had been in the sunlight. It certainly didn't take him more than a few minutes to walk across the top, yet he'd been trudging in the dark for quite a while now, following the gentle throb of magic that lay ahead.

His lantern seemed to be running out of fuel; its light was gradually getting dimmer. Glaring into the darkness, the Dark One accelerated. He also had the strange feeling he was being followed, but he couldn't hear anything over the noise of his armor.

* * *

If she could have, Robin would have let Steve know she was following him; but with the dim light and rocks strewn all over the floor, she was having enough trouble matching his pace without trying to call out to him.

* * *

"Captain, we are supposed to be at-"

"I'm aware."

"But, sir, your-"

"I _said_, I'm _aware_!"

"Y-yes, Captain, sir..."

His gut a-tingling, Vonvarr narrowed his eyes and adjusted the course slightly. _Nobody makes ME look like a fool! Not a pirate, nor a bounty hunter- and ESPECIALLY not a goddamned flying SWORD!_

With a low growl, the Marine officer gripped the helm even tighter.

* * *

With a low grunt, the Evil One raised the lantern to the wall. He'd reached the end of the cavern, and found... a wall. The only thing that made this particular section stand out was the fact that there was a hole in it, over markings that Steve could barely distinguish. But, the throb of magic was definitely beyond this wall.

But it was a _wall._

He was about to try following it to find a door, when he heard the sound of a rock being bumped not far behind him. Whirling around, the Overlord held out his left hand, channeling mana and scouring the dark, looking for any sign of an aggressor.

After a moment, the archaeologist walked out of the shadows, breathing heavily.

Steve barely prevented the Fireball from launching- and then the pain hit after a moment.

_Note to self: learn how to cancel magic without clamping your fist on the spell._

Clutching his steaming hand and trying to remove the scorching hot gauntlet, the Peasant Pyromaniac grumbled incoherent words to himself while pacing rapidly. Meanwhile, Robin paid him no heed, took the dropped lamp, and examined the markings on the wall with an archaeologist-like obsessive interest.

"Place... no, insert... tool- hmm... not tool, totem..."

"**Bloody-frikkin'-hell-spawn-in-a-conniving-pit-of-demonic-dragon-babies****...!**"

"Declare- recite? Chant? Ah, proclaim..."

"**Twisted-up-the-left-buttock-with-the-horn-of-a-unicorn-set-ablaze****...!**"

"The rest is that other language... hey, can you read this?"

"**Yanked-through-the-facial-orifice-by-the-tongue-loosener-**_**made-of-BONE**_" Dropping his gauntlet on the ground, the Overlord continued pacing and waving his singed hand through the air.

"Steve?"

"**Shoved-down-the-throat-of-a-dozen-infant-tribbles****-**"

"Steve!"

"**What?**"

The woman put a hand to the markings below the hole. "Can you read the rest of this? I can only figure out 'insert totem and proclaim thy title whilst' before it goes to the other language."

The Dark One had to kneel to get close enough to read the worn carvings, and then cease another string of nonsense instigated by his reflexive placement of a certain hand on the ground. "**Impotent-midget-halfings- ahh... huh. One moment.**" Steve reached towards his belt pouch with his free hand, only to find that one unburnt right hand could not get close enough to the drawstrings on his left side.

"... Would you like help?"

"**If you wouldn't mind.**" Greatly shamed, the Most Overconfident Master gestured at his pouch. "**There is a key I need.**"

She withdrew it with a considerable amount of deft speed. That didn't help Steve's mood.

Once the key was in his good hand, the Overlord pushed it into a small slot just under one of the Arcanium thigh plates; following a small burst of mana to override the a explosive Anti-Pilfer System, Steve turned the key and opened the cover of the physically tiny compartment in his armor, revealing a magically enhanced spacial distortion chamber that housed a considerably thick volume.

He had to give Gnarl credit for the idea, the secret compartment in the thick section came in quite handy. Especially when he needed a place to store water during the trip in the Ruborian desert.

Quickly pulling his mind away from the memories of the overheated sand-hell, Steve withdrew the book and set it on his knee and flipped through the pages (still waving his other, burnt hand around), trying to find a particular section.

"Does your armor have many of these?" Next to him, the archaeologist was curiously probing the still-open chamber in his leg.

"**Just the one. Got it so I could store water.**"

"I see... practical."

"**I thought so... ah, here we go.**" Rising from his kneel, he held the volume next to the markings. "**Let's see... that looks like... yes, 'channeling'... and that, if I remember right, was 'juju'...**"

"What is that language?"

"**Ancient Minion. Gnarl said I should carry the translation guide around, just in case.**" Steve hadn't given much thought as to why, though. He figured Gnarl was trying to free a space on a shelf. "**'Into a sheep'? No, 'throughout'..."**

* * *

"There it is!" Happily, the captain swung himself onto the ledge. Sure enough, there was a door-shaped impression in the rock face.

However...

"There's a rock in the way." The musician tapped the stone with a finger. "It seems sol-"

-_WHAM_-

Brook found himself tapping on air.

"Ooooh! A passageway!" Eagerly, Luffy hurried into the shadows.

After the surprise of seeing one of Luffy's attacks fly mere inches from his skull faded, Brook brushed several stone chips from his suit and followed.

* * *

-_Flip flip flip flip flip_-

**Grunt.**

-_flitflitflitflit_-

"**Here we go. It's either 'unicorn' or 'core'.**"

The woman stared at the carvings. "The complete writing would be 'insert totem and proclaim thy title whilst channeling juju throughout thy unicorn'?"

"**Does this realm have unicorns?**"

"I don't think so. "

"**Good, the fiends keep trying to gore me. It probably means 'core', then.**"

"Do you know why there would be a cave with 'Ancient Minion' written in it, in _our_ dimension?"

"**I'd normally say no, but... **_**I**_** am not supposed to be here.**" He hooked his gauntlet onto the same loop as his pouch, and closed the lid to the chamber on his thigh- he kept the translation guide out, though. _Totem... maybe..._

-_Clink_-

-_Clank clank_-

He slowly angled his eyes to his waist... and then frantically looked around.

"Is something wrong?"

"**Maybe I dropped it when I nearly used Fireball on her...**"

"_Who_ nearly got Fireballed?"

"**When did I last have it-**" Steve halted as realization dawned, and he turned back towards the cavernous depths and shadows that he had recently traversed, to the distant speck of light coming from the ceiling.

* * *

Rocks, dust and darkness. That was all the swordsman could see, other than the hole that the light was coming from.

He was about to continue his quest for a nap location when he noticed a glint in the rocks that had fallen from the brand-new entryway. Curious, the green-haired individual approached the rubble and began shifting the debris.

_This strange... tingly, uneasy feeling... like that of the_...

His suspicions confirmed, Zoro pulled the 'Arcanium' weapon out of the pile of rocks.

* * *

His mouth agape under his helmet and face-rags, the Overlord made small choking noises. Twice now in this realm, he'd been without his weapon; back in his home dimension, the only time he'd been unarmed had been when he was comatose in a casket.

"You've been unresponsive at peculiar moments today."

"**I feel... vulnerable...**"

Something hit his backside with a -_conk_-

"You seem fine."

"**... did you just kick me?**"

"Who is this 'her' you nearly Fireballed?"

"**Right, the uh, totem. Need a totem.**" Quickly avoiding the subject, Steve examined the hole above the markings. _It has to be an item of significance; an enchanted weapon would probably be best, but something else may work..._ "**Do you have something symbolic?**"

"Such as?"

"**I think the kind of totem necessary would be something we use, or need often; such as my weapon, or a different important item.**"

"All I have is the symbol of the crew, and my personal mark. And, it said 'juju'- that's a word for 'magic'."

A gauntleted finger traced the symbols. "**True- then it would have to be something of mine; something I know the f**-" An idea occurred. Carefully keeping his left arm limp, the can-man set the translation book on a nearby rock and removed his helmet before carefully setting it base first into the hole.

The archaeologist caught on and stood away from the wall. Steve was doing his magic-using concentration, and Robin didn't like being next to him when he did that.

The Duke of Domination set his hand upon the helmet's prongs poking out of the hole, and channeled mana through his body. Once he was satisfied, the Impenetrable One took a deep breath.

"**Leader of the Minion Army!**"

There was silence.

"**Grinder of Goldo! Ravager of Rollie!**"

Still nothing.

"**Master of Arcanium Weaponry! Big Daddy! Vanquisher of the Funny! Giant Slayer! Prince of Persecution! Rude Awakener! Rescuer of the Distressed Damsel!**"

Now, he was starting to feel a bit silly.

"**... Most Overconfident Master?**"

Much to his surprise, the DAMMIT went bonkers. Magic, previously too minor for even the DAMMIT to detect, erupted from the markings, covering a chunk of the wall he was in front of; it even began glowing.

Removing his helmet from the hole and nabbing the Ancient Minion book off its rock, he took a few steps backward and found himself beside Robin.

"So... 'Ravager of Rollie'?"

"**Don't ask.**" Plonking his helmet back on, Steve watched as, with a low grinding noise, the wall split on a previously invisible crack and opened outward, revealing...

More darkness.

Of course.

The archaeologist walked through the door before Steve could even get his armored self moving. As he _clonk_ed through the door, he remembered to tilt his helmet- in doing so, he noticed several old scars in the rock, from something continuously scraping the top of the doorway.

He felt a kindred spirit already.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the cavern, the navigator and marksman shuddered at the same time.

The navigator rubbed her arms uncomfortably. "Did you feel that?"

"Y-y-y-yes..."

The shipwright glanced at the two shudderers, much to the dismay of the medic currently checking his skull for dents.

"Feel what?"

"T-t-tingly..." The sniper looked around frantically.

"Like the feeling when we're near Steve, when he's using his magics..."

In his paranoid glances, Usopp noticed something. Rather, _failed_ to notice some_one_. "Wh-where did Robin go?"

Nami glanced around the lit areas. "Maybe she went- where is Steve?"

The doctor finished his examination of Franky, and looked around the area. "He went somewhere that way, I think; maybe Robin followed him?"

They all considered the following: Steve, the _evil_ mysterious guy that fell from the sky, and Robin, both out of sight.

Although they had gotten to know Steve somewhat, they didn't trust him _that_ much. And he was self-proclaimed evil. And Nami vaguely recalled something along the lines of 'Wench Bane'.

"_Roooobbiiiinn!_"

* * *

"Did you hear something?"

The Overlord ceased his feelings of the wall, and listened for a moment. "**I hear nothing.**"

"... peculiar... what are you looking for?"

"**A torch, or something else I can use in its place.**"

"There's no magic way to activate a lighting system?"

"**Oh, **_**sure**_**. Because they'd use magic to do something that other, easier-to-come-by materials could do. Of course, they wouldn't **_**bother**_** to take heed of the risks associated with having magic active for extended periods of time, as would be needed for lighting a building****. They'd make it so that with a **_**clap**_** of their hands**-" Steve gently clapped his hands together, not hard enough to hurt his burned hand but enough to produce a sound.

Immediately, the DAMMIT went haywire and light blazed into existence from torches set ridiculously high on the walls

"**-the... lights... would... turn on...**"

With an amused glance, the archaeologist turned to look at the rest of the room. The ceiling wasn't as high as the massive cavern, but it was still more than necessary for such a chamber. Her smile instantly fell as she got a look at the shelves carved into the walls, however.

While Robin wore a depressed expression as she looked through the rotten remains of ancient books, Steve tried to pinpoint where the magic he'd detected on the surface was originating.

After a few moments of walking and triangulating, Steve stood before a large sarcophagus-like stone box, in the center of a well-lit wall. Deactivating the DAMMIT, he flipped the Ancient Minion translation guide next to the carvings on the lid.

After several minutes, he deciphered:

_Here lies: Leader_

_Born: Not long ago._

_Died: Yestersun. Too soon._

_Yoolahjee: Leader was great. Leader harmed things. Leader let Mins have sheepies. Leader great. But Leader dead now. Leader less great. But great in memory. So put Leader in big rock box. Also items Leader collected. Also Leaderess. She still alive. Objected to joining Leader. She hitting lid._

_Box sealed with Jujuseal_©_. Jujuseal© expensive. But Leader deserve cost._

Once he finished translating the crude runes, Steve checked around the lid- assuming 'Jujuseal©' blocked the detection of magic, there must have been damage to the sarcophagus for the DAMMIT to have been able to receive anything- and sure enough, there was a small crack on one side and a shattered stalactite on the ground.

Then, a thought occurred to Steve: _What the hell is a '_©_'?_

Setting the ponderous endeavors aside for later, the Overlord went to one side of the sarcophagus and set his hands at the base of the rough, rocky, coarse, and _heavy_ lid of the box, and lifted. Then his eyes began to water, followed by another round of pacing while clutching his left wrist.

"**Insane-wasp-babies-violating-the-personal-space-of-a-bastard-dragon****...!**"

While a certain armored individual talked semi-nonsense to himself, the archaeologist resigned any hope of recovering the books and looked around the rest of the room for the first time. Seeing the stone casket between blockages of Steve pacing back and forth, Robin approached it. It required pinpoint timing, though; Steve moved _quick_. Even with nigh perfect estimation, she barely avoided being plowed.

"**Infernal-turnip-truck-with-ejector-seats****...!**"

"What's this?"

"**What? Oh.**" Blocking the pain from his hand, he dictated the writing on top of the casket. "**I was about to try opening it, but... hand.**"

"I've got plenty, don't worry."

* * *

He may have recently hit his head, but Steve _knew_ what he just saw. And now, the tomb was open._ Because a frikkin' bunch of arms popped out of nowhere and forced the lid off?_

"**Buh... arms... from rock... not magic...**"

"I didn't mention? I have a Devil Fruit. Allows me to sprout body parts on other surfaces."

"**... oh.**" He placed that nugget of information in the 'To Be Pondered Later' category. Right now, there was a coffin to examine.

With the skeleton at the top of the island and the markings in Ancient Minion all over the place, Steve wasn't surprised at what he saw in the sarcophagus; he had actually been expecting it. Under the much-smaller skeleton that was probably the 'Leaderess', lay a large body covered in armor that radiated old mana and Evil doings.

Undoubtedly, the armor of a former Overlord.

"Uncanny resemblance between the two of you." Robin reached into the grave and removed a bone of the 'Leaderess'.

"**It's the eyes.**" Leaning partially into the coffin, Steve examined the helmet. _Not Arcanium, nor Durium..._ experimentally, he scraped a finger on his gauntlet across a prong of the helm. Not a scratch on the old armor, but his finger piece was no longer pointy._ Holy crap, this is stronger than Arcanium!_

Once he got over the massive superiority of the old metal, Steve was able to look at the rest of the armor- and it wasn't pretty. The entire suit was riddled with dents, from tiny things to craters bigger than Steve's head. Scorch marks covered a majority of the front, and the plating on one leg had been crushed into an oval shape.

There was certainly no envy from Steve to the Dark One of long ago; with damage like that all over the armor, the wearer must have had shattered bones and considerable internal damage- and if that was _all_ that he got with a far superior suit of armor, Steve couldn't _begin_ to imagine what it would do to his own set and body. It would definitely be unpleasant, though.

* * *

"Roooooobbbiiinnn!" Still searching, Nami looked around another fallen rock.

"Rooooobbiiinn!" Next to her, Luffy also called out.

"Robin! Where are- _where did you come from_?"

The captain gestured towards a nearby shadowy corner, from which Brook was currently emerging. "Over there! Why're we looking for Robin?"

"We don't know where she or Steve went, and Robin may be in trouble."

"Maybe she's with Steve? I'm sure he can protect her for now!" This got Luffy a whack on the head.

"We're worried _because_ she may be with Steve!"

While Luffy rubbed the back of his head, Brook took a look around. "Ah, my eyes have adjusted- but I have no eyes! Yohoho- yikes. Big cave."

* * *

While Steve examined the extensive damage to the armor, Robin set the skull back where it had been. By her estimations, the smaller body had been a woman in her early twenties. The archaeologist was about to take the skull from the much larger body, when something on its torso caught her eye.

Carefully moving the heavy arms from the long dead man's chest, Robin found another book previously concealed by the large hands- it hadn't deteriorated like the rest of the volumes in the room, though. It seemed to be in nearly perfect condition, though it lacked a title. It was held closed by a leather toggle; Robin was about to undo it, when a large burnt hand blocked her own.

"**It has magic on it. Traps.**"

Gently taking the book from her grasp, Steve held it in his right hand and placed his left over it; several large sparks flew off the book, and writing un-faded onto the cover.

"More Ancient Minion?"

He shook his head to indicate a 'no'. "**It's an old form of Common from my home region.**"

"What does it say?"

The Overlord undid the toggle and flipped to the first page. "**'Records', by Leader of the Mins.**"

* * *

(Superlong Ending A/N Begin)

And so, I shall point out a few things that I want to make sure everyone knows, and the kind of things that _I_ notice while you readers may not.

Q: In Chapter 1, it's written that it's morning aboard the _Sunny_- yet, Nami saw flickering sunlight. Steve was directly above, so he couldn't have done that! WTF, dude! A: That was Steve's sword; it got separated from him when he began falling. If you had guessed that, you get bonus points.

Q: If the Overlord has an aura thing going on, shouldn't he have the spikes growing from his shoulders? A: I excluded those for simplicity.

Q: Waiwaiwai, Zoro damaged the cave! Robin wouldn't allow anybody to damage history! WTF, dude! A: The ceiling doesn't have writing on it, and he didn't damage the pillar much. Besides, with all that the Strawhats have done for Robin, I kind of figure they all get one minor 'Get Out Of Jail Free' card. Or a 'Not Having Your Spine Shattered Immediately But There Will Be A Severe Talking-To Later' card.

Q: Did... Zoro have a staring contest with Steve...? A: Pretty much.

Q: What's with all the poker references with Gnarl? A: In Overlord, when you talk to the enslaved servants, they say "If that Gnarl looks at me funny one more time, I'm going to hit him with a poker!"- so, I have him hit with pokers.

Q: WTF, dude! In (early chapter), you say this, but in (later chapter) it's contradicted! A: I pull most of this out of my arse as I go; there'll be inconsistencies. I'll try to keep them small, though.

Q: The lights turned on when he clapped his hands. Seriously. A: Yes. I'm calling it the Magiclapper.

Q: ... how could Steve snap his fingers when he's wearing a gauntlet? WTF, dude? A: He, uh, has gauntlets of, um, +3 Finger-snapping. Yeah. It allows him to snap his fingers through the Arcanium. But it does nothing to his enemies.

(Superlong A/N End)


	7. Black InsertThingHere

(Beginning A/N)

Buh... Franky's hair... after time skip... Sanji's left eye... visible... Brook... is now Elvis? (or is that a possible reference to _Soul Music_, a Discworld book...?)

I've been trying to reply to most of the reviews, but I'm not entirely sure if it always works; out of the 3-4 replies I sent, I only got one in return, so... I dunno. I have been trying to reply, though.

Those who know not of One Piece: The World Government is a... uh... y'know what? Go to the One Piece Wiki and find out. As Robin will say, it's complicated.

Those who know not of Overlord: Everything about the ancient Overlord is a break from the canon. Just want to make sure that's clear.

Imagine the _Records_ were written in a style of medieval-ish English (thee, thy, whilst, thou, art, etc). I would have done it myself, but it would have been a major pain in the arse to make it sound consistent.

(End Beg. A/N)

* * *

Once he got the hang of the lettering, Steve began dictating the writing to Robin, starting with the first entry.

_**Third Sun in the New Realm**_

_Before I get carried away, I shall explain the predicament. Two suns ago, while searching a previously forgotten ruin, a group of Mins brought me a Mystic artifact. It was put in the high priority pile, and not given thought until we had returned to the Black Fortress._

_When we returned, my senior adviser, an elderly Min named Scrag, spotted the artifact nearly immediately. Scrag was a brilliant Min- he could determine what Mystic item we may have found within mere moments. Unfailing in this ability, he brought before me what he believed to be the Mystic Shifter, an item mentioned but never detailed in the known Ancient Legend. _

_Immediately, he prompted and convinced me to use this artifact. It was not a difficult thing; all it took to activate was a relatively small amount of juju._

_What happened _after_ it was activated is an entirely different story. Once the artifact had begun operating, flashes of light spun from it; the air itself cracked, and all that could be heard were the roars of the Earth and the thunder of the stone the Black Fortress was built from cracking in the excitement._

_It all stopped after a short moment, to be replaced by lights and a strong spinning; footing was useless, as Min and I alike were thrown about like pebbles in a wind. That chaos also soon ended, to be replaced by the Black Fortress shuddering strongly, and a feeling of falling before all were thrown to the floor with a thunderous crash._

_Once reoriented, I went to a window and had quite a start. Surrounding the Fortress was not the dead forest, nor the dry plains- but a vast expanse of water. I stood there in shock for a short time, before turning to find Scrag._

_Alas, the elderly Min had long been getting weak; in all the tumbling, he had suffered injuries and could not survive to the end of the ordeal. The rest of the living Mins and I gave him a burial, before venturing outside the Fortress._

_It appeared that the entire Fortress and a portion of its surrounding land had also been affected by the change in surroundings; for a short distance outward from the Black Wall, the land I recognize continued to the edge of the water._

_After two days of staring at the new sea, I decided I should occupy myself to try and ensure that my mind was secure; I began writing this. With any hope, it will allow me, the Leader of the Mins, to make sense of this one day. The Mystic Shifter, the item I accuse of being the source of all these problems, has been locked in a casket until further notice._

* * *

Without fully realizing, Steve had begun pacing soon after he had started reading the journal.

"The 'Mystic Shifter' that is mentioned..."

"**Its effect bears a remarkable similarity to the Gem of Inter-reality Transportation. The item **_**I**_** got here with.**"

"Yours broke; the 'Mystic Shifter' does not sound like it was damaged. Would it be here," Robin pointed at the pile of items laying at the foot of the Leader's corpse, "Or in the remains of the 'Black Fortress'?"

"**Either location is likely.**" Skimming to the larger and seemingly more notable entries, Steve continued to read it aloud.

* * *

_**Twenty-fourth Sun in the New Realm**_

_Late in the evening of yestersun, after I had finished the entry for that time, a vessel arrived. On board were people- this was a good sign, to me. It meant that we weren't in some cursed land, that there was life elsewhere._

_They identified themselves as explorers, and were on their way further into the 'Great Sea'. They said that where our Black Fortress sat, there had previously been nothing, and wanted to know why there was a giant castle in the middle of the ocean, where nothing had been before._

_I couldn't answer very well, as I am not sure myself, but these strangers nevertheless welcomed the Mins and I to their oceans, eager to make new allies. Seeing no harm in this, I also did my best to befriend them; if nothing else, it would allow me to learn more of the new area in which the Black Fortress now sat._

_In just a short while of talk, they showed me a map of all they knew- and I dove deeper into surprise. I asked questions, but all were answered the same: they had explored nearly the entire 'globe', and had no knowledge of the lands I described as home._

_Once they alerted their superiors about me and my Mins, they were tasked with remaining in the Black Fortress, and assisting in any way they could- repairing the supports, gathering food, making sure the Mins didn't slack off as much as they would unsupervised, and so forth._

_The ship they arrived on is called the _Ocean Kangaroo_, and its captain Horace_. _Hopefully, I will not have to worry about an attack while I still know nothing about this... 'globe'._

_Scrag's assistant, Knot, is still trying to persuade me to experiment with the Mystic Shifter; however, until details can be discovered in the Black Library's copies of the Ancient Legends, I'm not touching that thing with a forty foot pole._

_**Twenty-ninth Sun in the New Realm**_

_Horace has convinced me to go and meet with his superiors; I will not take these records with me, however. I shall always leave them in the Black Fortress to ensure no harm comes to this book. I will write another entry upon my return._

_**Sixty-third Sun**_

_When we originally departed from the Black Fortress, Horace insisted the trip would only take a week or two. Lo and behold, we got put on a slight detour by a storm, and... to put it shortly: I now have two cracked ribs, an aching shoulder, stains in the grooves of my armor [mostly my own blood], decreased vision in one eye, a bent handle on one of my weapons, six maiden servants and knowledge on what kinds of monsters lurk in these oceans and terrorize villages. Villages that, when you save them from imminent destruction, insist on marrying their finest young woman to their savior._

_Through bargaining, I convinced them to loan me their maidens on a one-year servant plan [with no marriage]. It took an aggravatingly extensive amount of negotiating with each village chief, and every time, Horace was nearby trying not to laugh._

_When I actually got to speak with Horace's superiors, we agreed that trying to harm one another would not be a good idea, and decided that until further notice the Black Fortress would remain neutral. Each of the leaders seemed exhausted; when I inquired, they said that a foe was getting close to bringing their reign down, and that they wished not to risk negotiations with me at the present, in case I too declared war._

_This works very well in my favor; it allows me to not risk Mins in combat since the Breeding Depths are still wrecked and I would have no replacements, and I can concentrate more on figuring out how I am to return to where I belong._

_Knot discovered a volume, old even by the Black Library's standards, that has information on the Mystic Shifter. The more intelligent Mins have been working on translating for two weeks, but... Mins are not known for their intellect. It will likely take a while for them to convert its language._

_Horace has departed, to continue on his original expedition._

_**Eighty-first Sun**_

_Knot has presented a translated version of the information for the Mystic Shifter. I shall quote what seems to be important._

"_Karabbis the Vanisher's Light Brown Rock_

_The 'Mystic Shifter'; 'Worldly Teleporter'; 'Changer of Scenery'; 'Excellent Paperweight'_

_As a Mystic Experimenter, Karabbis made many creations- however, he is best remembered and titled for his especially peculiar make, the Mystic Shifter. It allows movement between lands- but not the lands we know. It moves its user, and if enough energy is channeled through it, a portion of the surrounding land to an entirely new region, unknown to any map and not known to connect to the regions prior to the shift._

_Karabbis stated that it was extremely difficult to specify which land the user wished to travel to: "While a user can try and go to a specific land, you cannot do so the first time. It requires knowledge of what the land itself felt like- I have found that concentrating on a sense you experienced in the target realm drastically increases the chance of getting there from 3% to anything between 6% to 20% for each sense, depending on how well one can remember and concentrate on each particular feeling."_

_Although famous, the Shifter itself became lost when Karabbis perished from when he tried to juggle three models of a later invention, the Blades With Rotating Parts That Are Excellent For Felling Trees."_

_**Eighty-fifth Sun**_

_Somewhere along the line, Knot managed to talk me into experimenting with the Mystic Shifter; given the descriptions in the old volume, it sounds like I'll be taking trips through many different lands. With any luck, however, I will find some items in these other 'worlds' that may prove beneficial._

_**Eighty-seventh Sun**_

_The different lands were certainly a change of scenery, I have to say. From great giant gray rectangular buildings and loud metal machines to a wasteland of nothing but dust, there were strange items everywhere. Very few seemed to be enchanted, but the levels of machinery I stumbled across might as well be supernatural, if not godsent- there were flying machines! _FLYING. MACHINES._ That went into the skies themselves and to the stars... truly, these lands are unimaginable._

_A definite common trait most of these new lands share is that they aren't terribly accustomed to my appearance. I attracted much attention to myself in several of the populated realms, and was even pursued in one for carrying my two flails. Apparently, public possession of dangerous items is prohibited for some foolish reason, to do with protecting the people or something along those lines._

_After running got boring, I just killed the two men following me. That didn't go over as planned, and a bunch more began following. _

_On the bright side, I got some exercise and a good idea of what to expect._

_**Eighty-ninth Sun**_

_Now that I have become more accustomed to the feeling the Shifter gives when it is being used, I was able to control my destination in a much more stable manner. I re-visited the realm of gray buildings and flying machines, and began searching for items that had mystical properties._

_Much like before, men in matching uniforms began trying to subdue me- this time, instead of narrow clubs, they used some sort of... the best I can describe these items would be "boom-sticks", and also small handheld box devices that have a sort of energy charge- not juju energy, something amazingly similar to elemental energy. Needless to say, I put a few boom-sticks and lightning boxes into the sack I brought along just for these mysterious items._

_Seeing that even more locals were after me, I used the Shifter to travel once more and found myself on the outskirts of an extremely large village with an extremely tall wall and extremely large wooden doors with strange red symbols splathered across them. Once I tried to enter through the open doors, however, two men in vests intercepted me and began asking questions, such as "what village are you from?", "would you please surrender your weapons?", "why did you just kill my partner?", but they ceased very quickly after that last one._

_Much to my irritation, however, more of their military presence arrived. They were extremely troublesome to combat; they had a tendency to turn into logs or clouds of smoke whenever I landed a hit. After a while, I got bored and hit all of them with a storm of burning rocks- that got 'em to quit flying around and using their tricks. Also set a majority of the village and the nearby forest on fire, but there didn't seem to be anything of interest there, so I Shifted to the next place._

_While I'm a big fan of chaos, I prefer to be the one who started it. The next Shift brought me to the middle of a battlefield where a bunch of people in red were fighting a bunch of people in blue._

_What really got my attention, though, is that the weapons they were fighting with bore amazing similarities to the boom-sticks- one even had a rotating cylinder that spewed massive amounts of damage to whoever it was pointed at. There was also a sort of stationary machine that automatically shot at whatever got in range- I stuffed the weapons and the machine into the sack after I obliterated their owners, and got back to the Fortress in three attempts._

_**Ninetieth Sun**_

_Having rested and gotten the gore off my armor, the Mins and I began looking at the items I found- it turns out, the boom-sticks fire a sort of small, fast pointed metal projectile when you pull a small lever. Although durable, these small projectiles couldn't even scratch my armor; as far as I can tell, they just knock me around a lot._

_Much to the disappointment of the Mins, these boom-sticks run out of the projectiles fairly quick; the machine only fired for a few moments before it too ran out of the projectiles. Not to say that it didn't slaughter almost every Min present, however._

_I think I will wait a while before Shifting again; there are storm clouds gathering, and I may be needed at the Fortress._

_**Ninety-fourth Sun**_

_The storm altered direction away from the Fortress, however Horace returned, half-dead in his ship that was shattered beyond repair with a crew in worse shape than he, frantically warning Knot and I of an impending attack by the group of ships that destroyed his own. Before passing out, he managed to at least tell me that the ships were from the group that was trying to take over the world, enslave humanity, let little kids eat sugar at any time of the day, and so forth._

_We probably wouldn't have gotten along any way, but they could have at least given a bit of _warning_ before they decided to fire on the Black Fortress. By the time I figured out what the hell all the noise was coming from, enough of the Black Wall had fallen to allow them into the courtyard, where the Black Courtyard Defenders were quickly being brought down, their Black Armor doing little to protect them and their Black Weapons not doing the Black Death they normally should. [Maybe we should stop putting 'Black' before everything...]_

_Once I blasted the foes with fire, it didn't take a lot to get them out of the courtyard. In fact, they didn't seem to be able to do much to me at all; this armor is quite hardy. Once I pushed them back to the beach, I set about destroying their ships- roughly six to begin with, but the last one managed to get a final volley shot at the Fortress before it fled._

_Unfortunately, that volley hit parts of the Fortress that were still weakened or damaged from the Shift. One corner of the Wall collapsed, along with two of its turrets; the Central Black Tower, which lies in the middle of the Fortress and holds many of its key areas, got severely damaged fortifications and almost risked falling._

_**Ninety-sixth Sun**_

_Horace has finally awoken, and I will be accompanying him when he returns to his superiors- the men that damaged the Fortress have quite irritated me. I shall seek an alliance with Horace's people, and try to crush these buggers that decided to fire upon the Black Fortress._

_**One hundred seventeenth Sun**_

_They have agreed to an alliance, and there are plans in motion to send ships to the Fortress so I can mobilize the Black Battalions. While they gather a small fleet, I am to continue searching the places accessible through the Shifter, looking for items that may help. My next trip will be tomorrow morning._

_**One hundred eighteenth Sun**_

_The trip went much faster than before, mostly because I was on a more delicate time schedule. I am not sure how many different locations I went to, but I have located several items of good potential- I must prepare for the next trip, however, so I cannot describe them as of now._

_**One hundred twentieth Sun**_

_Once again, many possibly useful items have been gathered. The first two ships, both build for high speed, have arrived; it should not be long before I can slaughter those who damaged my Fortress._

_**One hundred thirty fourth Sun**_

_The last of the ships have arrived, and a majority of the items have been spread amongst them. They are crewed by Mins as the military presence [several thousand total, I believe], and a small number of humans to operate the ships. We will depart tomorrow, and it sounds like I will be gone for quite some time, leaving the Fortress in the hands of Knot._

_**Four hundred fifteenth Sun**_

_According to what the humans said, my force alone both shattered the "Twenty Kingdom's" outer islands and sank a portion of its armada. I had to cease my advance, however- my small fleet was not invincible, and I was forced to return here, to the Fortress, with two ships and about one hundred Mins remaining. In my absence, Knot has returned it to its full glory; if it weren't for the rapidly receding beach and the ocean, I would not have known a difference from when it was back in its original location._

_While the Mins recuperate and repopulate, I am going to continue my trips with the Shifter. The items I brought along were mostly used until their energy was nearly fully depleted, and I shall need a new set if I am to raid once again; they will need many years to regain their power, and any use before then will likely be damaging._

_There is another notable difference in the Fortress- Knot asked the humans if they would send a scribe, so that their alliance could be written into stone. The once bland walls of the Fortress now have carvings, in mixed Min and the human language, describing our first encounters and the allegiance itself, as well as restored old instructions that are spread throughout the Fortress.

* * *

_

Steve removed his gaze from the book, his thunderous voice now sore. Robin had, somewhere along the line, taken a seat on what seemed to have once been a bed frame, but was now a short and broken platform of stone.

Looking at nothing in particular, the archaeologist spoke quietly: "This is quite a find, historically speaking..."

He would have responded, but the Overlord had just finished speaking what had seemed to be important sections of _Sources_.

"From what you read out of that last passage, about the receding beach and carvings on the wall? I think it would be a safe conclusion that this island is, in fact, the 'Black Fortress'."

The armored individual **grunt**ed in agreement; he had also arrived at that possibility.

"But if this 'Leader' was such a powerful force against the Twenty Kingdoms, what happened to him? Are there more entries?"

Steve flipped to the next page. Unlike every entry before it, this one was not written in old Common- it was written in Ancient Minion. Curious, he flipped to the next few pages- each 'Sun' had its own entry, except for when the ancient Leader was away from the Fortress; however, the one in Ancient Minion seemed to be the last in the journal. Holding the _Sources_ in one hand and balancing the Ancient Minion translation book on the same arm, he set about converting the language.

"**This next one seems to be the last one in the book.**"

* * *

**Four hundred and twenty-first Sun**

_Due to injuries I have sustained, I am unable to write this entry myself; I am instead dictating to Knot, who is doing the writing._

_The first trip after my raid was disastrous. I gathered several items, but after only a short while I arrived at a place of destruction: a field, covered in bodies and dirt turned to mud by blood, strewn with shattered machines of war. _

_I was almost immediately seen as a foe by both sides of the war. This normally would have been a standard occurrence, however these armies had extremely formidable weapons. From exploding spheres to large projectiles fired from boom-sticks, I found myself taking much more damage than I have in a long, long time. My armor cracked and dented heavily in the onslaught of metal rain; my bones shattered quickly under the force of these great weapons, and I am sure that several of my internal organs have taken damage._

_This was all before a great behemoth challenged me. Badly injured, I managed to find a place less in the open, although I was followed. The behemoth was great, and terrible- it was the size of a house, built completely of steel, and had great cannons on the front._

_I tried to evade it, but no terrain stopped the titan. I at last found myself at a dead end, staring a mechanical demon in the face; as powerful as my magic was, there was no melting its armor, no freezing its wheels._

_Once it fired its great cannons, I knew I could not fight. Of the four that fired, only one connected- and that was enough. It crushed my armor with such a horrifying power; I felt my ribs cave, and crack as the armor bent into my torso, as I was flung backwards through stone. As if that wasn't painful enough, the machine then ran over my leg, crushing both armor and flesh._

_Having had enough, I used the Shifter to flee once I could move. Unfortunately, the Shifter was not undamaged- in all the chaos, it had gotten hit and had a crack; chunks occasionally flew off, and when it finally stopped Shifting, it broke nearly in half._

_Still not at the Fortress, I continued to try and Shift. Each time, the pieces broke smaller and smaller, leaving a small chunk in each land until finally, with the rock nearly gone, I found myself in the Fortress. And then passed out._

_Once I awoke, I was informed that the damage to my armor was too severe to have it removed; and since the armor repelled mystic energies, the items commonly used for healing had their effects nullified. So, seeing my end, I asked Knot to write as I spoke- and here we are._

_I wonder if my raids bought Horace's people enough time to better fend off these "Twenty Kingdoms"; but, they will be alone in their endeavors. The Mins cannot repopulate quick enough to help, and the Fortress' descent into the ocean has been gradually increasing with each day. Knot predicts that the entire island will be submerged within a matter of weeks.

* * *

_

"**And that is the end.**"

"His death would certainly prevent him from destroying the Kingdoms." The archaeologist went back to the sarcophagus, and gazed at the devastated armor of the ancient Leader.

"**What are these 'Kingdoms' mentioned?**"

"I think it is a previous name of the World Government..."

"**... which is...?**"

"It... is kind of complicated."

"**Never mind, then.**" Now able to half-use his burned hand, Steve withdrew the key from the pouch and opened his thigh compartment, stashing the Ancient Minion translation book and _Sources_ within before joining Robin at the sarcophagus.

* * *

"Roooobin! Where _are_ you?"

* * *

(Begin end A/N)

You know, I always worry that my stories sometimes move too quickly. Now, I can look at this one and say, "Damn, this story moves kind of slow". Sorry about that, by the way.

I was intentionally vague on history pertaining to the Ancient Kingdom ("Horace's people/superiors") and the Ancient Alliance/Twenty Kingdoms (better known as the World Government), because their history is a bit vague in One Piece canon. Needless to say, there probably wasn't a big evil guy that went off and obliterated a chunk of the Government's military.

The ancient Overlord visited: a generic semi-modern city, Naruto, Team Fortress 2, and a semi-futuristic battlefield where he got royally buttkicked by a heavy tank. In the next chapter, I think that the items in the sarcophagus will be rifled through, so there's going to be more references to other shows/games/etc. [Man, archaeologists and Overlords looking for Mystic Shifters have no respect for the dead.]

(End end A/N)


	8. Croft Is His Middle Name

(Beginning A/N)

Maybe it's just me, but this story seems to be getting more serious and less comedic; this may be a pattern, since the farther along a story goes, the more I plan ahead, and the more I think about the story, I'll be less likely to throw in small jokes. Hopefully though, I'll be able to avoid letting it get _too_ sincere. And if that fails, I might write a parody of my own story.

They who watch nor read One Piece: An Eternal Pose is a compass that always points to one location.

Those who play not Overlord: The Green Minion is the stealth class that specializes in literal backstabbing.

This chapter may not be quite on par with the rest; it was written in much less time than the others, since I had an "oh crap" moment when I realized I had a week left in my self-imposed monthly deadline.

(End beginning A/N)

* * *

"Captain!"

The Marine officer ceased concentrations on his gut pull. "What is it?"

"The JJD has been receiving data, sir!"

"That old thing? Are you sure it's not just malfunctioning with age?"

"No, captain- it is doing _exactly _what the manual says it should be doing."

Smiling to himself, the captain dismissed the Marine, his mind occupied with possibilities: _If the JJD is working fine, and going off… if that sword was truly flying…if my gut isn't just hungry..._

His smile exploding into a nigh maniacal grin, Vonvarr took an Eternal Pose out of his coat pocket and adjusted the helm to match its heading.

* * *

Utterly befuddled, Steve flipped the thing over once more. It was about the length of his hand, and close to a fourth as wide; it had a gentle curve, fourteen buttons with different symbols, and at the two ends it widened slightly, but facing the inside of the curve on each of the widened sections were a bunch of small holes.

The Overlord had absolutely no idea what the heck the thing was supposed to do, and glanced at his fellow tomb raider.

Robin was also having little luck with the item she had selected from the pile at the foot of the ancient armor; it was some sort of orange ball, with a few darker orange stars below the surface- she was currently tapping the areas directly over the star marks, to no effect.

Turning his attention back to the thing in his hand, Steve randomly pressed a button- and the item gave off a single short buzz, and was then silent. Curious, he pressed a different button- a slightly different tone of buzz, but equally short. Intrigued, Steve pressed several more buttons- each one had its own unique noise. Lastly, he pressed one of the two larger buttons, the green one that had a symbol in a shape similar to the item.

The green button also had a short tone, but it was quickly followed by more noise. Removing his helmet to hear it better, Steve held the noise-making end of the object to his ear.

Coming from the item was a tone similar to those before- however, this one was oscillating, stopping, then oscillating once more in a loop. In varying levels, there was also the rough noise similar to what Steve heard in the link between his armor and the Tower, whenever there was an interference with the connection.

After several seconds the oscillation stopped, but the interference remained. Confused, the Overlord looked at it- and as soon as he did so, a voice came from the noise-making end.

"_-help line, how-_"

Quickly returning it to his ear, Steve listened to the feminine voice.

"_- I help you?_"

"… **could you repeat that?**" Looking up from the ball, Robin looked at him with a quizzical glance.

"_You've –buzz- goddess help line, how may I help you?_"

He blinked a few times. "**The **_**what**_** help line?**"

"_Goddess help -buzz- you have a–buzz- request -buzz- take?_"

"**Uh… no, not necessary. Bye.**" Taking a wild guess, he pressed the red button opposite the green one, and the item went silent.

"Was that a voice?"

"**Of the 'goddess help line'.**" Making sure not to press any more buttons, Steve set the item carefully back into the tomb, and withdrew a new one from the pile.

* * *

Near the far end of the other room, the Straw-Hats minus two gathered.

The first to speak was Usopp. "Luffy! Where'd you come from?"

His captain grinned mischievously; "I found a doorway on a ledge, and found Nami down some stairs!"

Brook walked out of the darkness, the shadows across his lifeless face startling the softer members of the crew. "More 'made' than 'found', Luffy."

Stopping the discussion of technicalities before it could begin, Nami spoke. "Did any of you guys find anything?"

Their shipwright shook his head, and gestured towards the swordsman "Nothing about Robin, but Zoro found Steve's sword under some rocks."

Sitting on a rock amidst the pile from the ceiling, the green-haired male in question was staring intently at the aforementioned weapon, which was leaning against another rock. After few seconds, he took the weapon by its hilt, held it for a few moments- and then dropped it, breathing heavily.

Confused, the captain spoke. "Is something wrong, Zoro? It doesn't look that heavy…"

Without responding, the swordsman took several deep breaths, gripped the weapon once more- and let go.

"What… is he doing…?" This time, 'twas Nami that asked.

Franky shrugged. "Apparently, it gives off some strong feeling to the touch- but he won't let any of us try." Once again, Zoro attempted to lift the weapon, and failed.

* * *

"**Is this... a cloak...?**" Withdrawing the shimmering cloth from the collection, Steve unfolded part of it.

"Looks like one."

"**Seems... flashy...**" He let the rest of the cloth unfold, holding it from one of the sides.

Glancing up from the pointy hat with sequins spelling out 'WIZZARD', Robin looking at Steve- but then frowned. "... Steve?"

**Grunt.**

"All I can see of you is the fingers of your gauntlets."

"**... eh?**"

Experimentally, she reached out- and felt cloth. Then, moved her hand behind it, and raised her eyebrows when her forearm disappeared.

"This... may make its wearer invisible..."

"**How? I can see you through it.**"

"But I can't see _you_."

After a moment of thought, Steve flipped the cloth around, and beheld... nothing. Robin had seemingly vanished. "**So... it's a cloth of invisibility...**"

* * *

Meanwhile, aboard the _Thousand Sunny_, Sanji felt a feeling of hope rise in his chest. He figured it had to do with the fishing rod.

* * *

"Message! Message from Mistress!"

"What is it?"

Unfurling the scroll, the Green cleared his throat (much to the dismay of Gnarl, who then had to inhale more of the trademark Green stench), and slowly read off the message. "'Deem'- wait, no, that 'dear'... 'To Gnarl- I... have... not... rek... rekeeved-'"

Snatching the message unceremoniously, Gnarl read it to Jab. "'To Gnarl: I have not received our Master's weekly message, so I fear the worst. I request that you inform me regularly of the Master's notable actions, most importantly whether or not he's gotten himself killed. That is all.'"

Looking pleased with himself, the Green saluted, nearly sending the Malevolent Messenger satchel flying.

"Yes, yes, message received, continue doing a good job and all that." Tapping the scroll, the elderly Minion pondered how to best explain the situation to the vacationing Mistress, and how he never noticed that that the Overlord had written weekly.

* * *

"It just occurred to me- do you think we should let the others see these?"

The target of the question, Steve, didn't move his eyes from the small cylinder for his counter-question. "**Would you want them recklessly rummaging through these?**" After removing the slightly wider part, the cylinder swiftly expanded into a small sword, which narrowly missed his forearm.

"You may have a point there."

Tapping the blade a few times, the Overlord verified the weapon was corporeal before pressing the open end of the wider tube onto the tip of the blade- as his guess anticipated, it shrank back into the shape of a small cylinder. After repeating the process a few times, Steve placed the item on top of the shimmering cloak which rested on he edge of the sarcophagus.

As he set it atop the cloth, his fellow grave robber set the pointy hat (the only strange thing about it being the hidden flask) in the 'discard' pile, which sat next to the original. After Robin withdrew a red gem, Steve took a black box from the small mound.

Similar to the other items, he couldn't notice anything terribly abnormal- though he wasn't trusting those senses, seeing as he was taking objects out of a whole pile of theoretical magic items. The box had some strange white markings on a few sides, a square button in the center of one, and two prongs set apart from one another on a side that faced perpendicular to the button.

Of course, the Overlord pressed the button.

With a _-krshzt-_, a bright white light appeared between the prongs. After more experimentation, Steve discovered that it stayed active as long as the button was depressed. Curious, he stuck a finger of his burned hand into the light- and immediately regretted it.

Examining the red stone while ignoring Steve's pacing and muttering, Robin pondered. The oval gem had a mild feeling, similar to but nowhere near as stifling as Steve's aura; instead of feeling like she was being suffocated, Robin's hand felt tingly in a painful way.

"What do you make of this jewel?"

"**Constipated-tree-fondling- huh? That little red thing?**"

"Yeah." She tossed it over, in case he began his dangerous pacing again.

Catching it in his unburned, non-tingly, gauntlet encased hand, Steve immediately made something of the jewel: the sucker had magic_ up so many wazoos that the god of wazoos probably cried twin waterfalls for a week._ Probing the gem with a small amount of mana, he could feel a _lot_ of raw power that could easily be converted into the mana he utilized.

Not only that, it was one of the best kinds of raw power: "**Souls...**"

"What was that?"

"**This jewel has the essence of thousands- no, maybe **_**millions**_ **of human sacrifices.**"

"As in... millions of souls were put into that small thing?"

"**No, maybe... the deaths **_**created**_** the gem...**" Rolling the red object to the center of his gauntlet's palm, Steve pushed his other hand into the Arcanium gauntlet at his waist (with a strong wince as the slightly burned flesh rubbed the materials within), and held it over the other, encompassing the jewel in his grasp.

Not liking the look of what he was doing, Robin cautiously edged away.

Oblivious to her relocation, Steve attempted converting the energy of the sacrifices into mana.

* * *

-_KSHZRFOOM_-

Amidst the pieces of the ship raining down, Vonvarr stumbled back to his feet; a quick look around showed no sign an attacker that would have caused the explosion.

"_What the hell was THAT?_"

Through the hole in the deck, the Marine captain saw one of his underlings, the one assigned to monitoring the JJD, stumbled into view. "S-sir, the, the JJD, it, it-"

"_Explain faster!_"

"Th-the JJD! Sir! It... it gave off a massive reading! Sir! A-and then exploded!"

The captain blinked. "It... exploded? The JuJu Detector... _exploded_?"

* * *

Pulling himself out of the water once more, Sanji spewed a few curses; he'd been minding his own business, fishing to pass the time, when all of the sudden some sort of super powerful mind-punch sent him tumbling over the rail.

Clutching his head and wishing his cigarettes weren't damp, Sanji muttered to himself: "What... the hell..."

* * *

"... was that?" Trying to think around the migraine, Franky struggled to get off the floor. Around him, all but Luffy were strewn across the ground, unconscious or close to it, with their captain unsteadily rising back to his feet.

A certain swordsman away from the group was also trying to push himself off the stone surface- rather, off the weapon that he had been unable to hold yet was perfectly able to fall on top of.

* * *

Once the fog over his vision cleared, Steve assessed the situation: he was lodged in a crater in the wall; Robin was crumpled in a corner; the red gem sat innocently on the floor, not far from where he had been standing just seconds before; his mana reserves seemed to be full; the Arcanium armor's magic levels were overloaded- the regeneration infusion that was normally only able to help him recover slightly faster was working in overdrive: he could feel shattered bones moving back into their rightful locations, and several organs resuming their previous tasks.

Waiting for his innards to stop shifting, the Most Overconfident One tried turning his head to see if Robin was visibly injured. Unfortunately, his neck was most _definitely_ injured.

Content with sitting still for few moments, he mulled over the different ways he could have done things with a bit more caution.

* * *

"What in the blazes...?" Sweeping the freshly fallen stone chunks off the ink, the elderly Minion looked around the trembling room. And then fell out of his chair when the door to his cave slammed open.

"HEART! MAGIC! LOTS! TOO LOTS!"

"WORDS! MORE! USE!"

"Tower Heart! Magic surge! Unstable! Lots unstable!"

"... that's a start." Climbing to his feet, Gnarl staggered past Quaver and headed towards the throne room.

The shaking got worse the closer to the Tower Heart he got; at times, he was nearly knocked off his feet. Although, the Minions' small stature did give him an advantage; the relatively high center of gravity on the servants had them staggering left and right- and Gnarl's day got slightly better after one of them fell on him.

"So, Giblet, what seems to be the prob- ah, I imagine that would be your worry." Leaning backward, Gnarl narrowly avoided a stream of the water that exploded from the Tower Heart's pool.

"Been this way for minutes! Sudden mana overload, from link!" With absolutely no idea how to handle the situation, the other Minion paced and gnawed his fingers.

"Link... the one with the Master?"

"Yes! Yes! Sudden! No warning, shakey shakey!"

Gnarl grinned; _if it came from the Master's end, that means he has found magic- and if it could overload the _Tower Heart_ of all things, it must have immense power_... "The Master must have found something extraordinary in that realm of water! He must be ecstatic!"

* * *

**Grunt**ing heavily, the Duke of Domination dominated the protests of his body and yanked an arm out of the wall, then used the newly freed limb to pull the other three out of the stone.

Once free from the rock, the Impenetrable One limped towards the sarcophagus, taking the red stone from the floor as he went. Unfolding the half invisible cloak, Steve took the items from his secondary pile as well as a large portion of the mound still inside the tomb, and placed in on the cloth.

When he reached the bottom layer, the Apprehender of Thieves stopped, stared, smiled and extricated. In his gauntleted hand, he now held pieces of a cloudy amber crystal that resembled the shard that he had previously been in possession of.

Placing the original Gem of Inter-Reality Transportation AKA Mystic Shifter on top of his new pile, Steve tied the corners of the cloak to make an invisible bag, and attached that to the ring at his waist before placing the rest of the items back on their pile in the tomb.

His health nigh fully recovered at this point, Steve hauled the stone lid back onto the sarcophagus, once again encasing his predecessor in his grave. Checking to make sure the Ancient Minion translation guide and _Sources_ were still with him, the Wench Bane then -_clunk-_ed over to the unconscious archaeologist.

Kneeling in front of Robin, the Rude Awakener gently shook her by the shoulder. Then dropped the 'gently'. After that, he tried talking loudly. With a **sigh**, the Rescuer of the Distressed Damsel unceremoniously placed the unconscious woman over his shoulder and left the room.

After he was several feet away, the torches within self-extinguished and the stone door rumbled shut. Not pausing, Steve trudged towards the light in the far distance.

* * *

In the darkness of the old Overlord's chambers, the vibrations of the door knock loose several stones in a newly formed crater. Unseen and unheard, ocean water flows through the cracks and into the former dwelling.

* * *

With a heavy shove, the swordsman managed to roll himself off the enchanted weapon, which he'd been stuck on top of for the last several minutes. Gasping for air and lightly glaring at the rest of his seemingly oblivious crew, Zoro decided to stay on the ground for a few more minutes.

"C'mon, guys- the mystery blast wasn't that bad..." Thoroughly confused, Luffy continued trying to rouse the unconscious crew. Sitting on a rock a few feet away, Franky tried to pass time by tinkering with another item and muttering about headaches.

Distantly, a metallic noise sounded from much farther within the darkness. As Zoro was the only one not concentrating on something, he was the first to notice- though he didn't bother getting off his back. Instead, he focused on listening.

The noises continued rhythmically, although every other -_clink-_ sounded different. Forcing himself to stand, the swordsman scanned the darkness, trying to determine which direction the noise emanated from.

At this point, Luffy also heard the distant noises, and also squinted into the dark. Franky, on the other hand, couldn't hear much over the clinks and scrapes coming from the item he worked on.

_-Clank-... -clunk-... -clank... -clunk... -clank-..._

"That doesn't sound _quite_ like Steve." Still searching, the swordsman cautiously laid a hand on the handles of his three swords.

"D'you think it's... a cave monster? Or... mystery sounds? Or a meat salesman?"

"Don't know, but it's headed this way. And now I'm hungry, dammit..."

* * *

As it turned out, the bag of items was heavier than he first anticipated. With it hanging off his belt loop on one side and Robin on the shoulder of his other, as well as the residual stiffness from his encounter with the wall, Steve's gait was quite uneven.

On top of that, he was taking a different path than before through the vast room. With very little light to illuminate the area, the Overlord often found himself staggering over rough ground and walking into the occasional column.

After much time of near-archaeologist-squishing experiences, Steve eventually walked into the area lit by the holed ceiling, and found himself standing across from the captain and swordsman.

"Oh, Steve! It was y- ... hey, is Robin also sleeping?"

"They aren't sleeping, they're _unconscious_." Seeing no imminent danger, the swordsman walked back to the problematic weapon. "Oh, Steve- catch."

Not questioning why Zoro tossed the Arcanium weapon using his scabbards, the Overlord caught the blade and, relaxed by its familiar weight and slight tingle, clipped it to his waist-loop.

"**Gonna go to the surface. You guys going to do anything else down here?**"

"We were waiting for Robin and you to return; after that, I was thinking we'd head back to the _Sunny_." Ceasing his tinkering, Franky winced as he rose from where he sat.

"**So... you guys going to carry them,**" Steve gestured towards the unconscious Straw Hats, "**or wait until they wake?**"

Judging by the decrepit look of the swordsman, the hungry look of the captain, and the pained look of the shipwright (whose headache got worse whenever the the armored man spoke), he guessed they weren't in favor of staying in the dark and somewhat damp cave.

Each of them took one of the unconscious crew- Steve already carried Robin, Zoro took Chopper and Luffy hauled Usopp off the ground. With Franky carrying Brook over a shoulder, this left the navigator on the ground.

"**Anybody volunteering?**"

"I'm too exhausted, and she'd probably give me an 'potentially inappropriate touching' fee." Tiredly, the swordsman ascended the dark stairs.

"Can you imagine if the cook saw a speedo-clad man carrying one of his 'beloveds'?" With that, the shipwright followed the swordsman.

This left Luffy and Steve. After a moment of staring at each other, they raised their fists.

* * *

As he _-clunk-_ed up the stairs, only one woman and an invisible bag weighing him down quite a bit, the Servant Snatcher did not regret his decision of 'paper', nor did he regret removing his helmet before entered the low-ceilinged stairway.

* * *

(Begin end A/N)

Y'know how Steve's aura causes problems when other people get too close? And how he _carried_ Robin through the cave/hall, right after his mana stores were filled (obscenely far) beyond their limits?

Maybe I secretly hate the characters I work with, or something. They rarely ever have a good day, in _any_ of my stories.

References/items to/in other canon: a direct connection to the Goddess Help Line, from _Ah! My Goddess_; a dragonball from _Dragonball_; Harry Potter's invisibility cloak; Rincewind's hat (from _Discworld_); the pen-sword Anaklusmos from _Percy Jackson and the Olympians_; a Philosopher's Stone from Fullmetal Alchemist, and whatever else Steve put into his cloak-bag O' magic that may or may not be used in later chapters, depending on whether- {the rest of this sentence has been removed due to run-on}. But only if the pink unicorn violates Sanji on top of the taffy tower.

(End end A/N)


	9. Kick the Can

(Beginning A/N)

This could probably use another proofread or two, but I'm tired and it's already a day behind my planned release.

Non-One Piecers: Marines are the military branch of the Government. And I'm pretty sure you could figure out on your own that Vonvarr's duty isn't canon.

Non-Overlorders: Though it would be totally awesome if Sanctuary could be expanded and used as an opponent-tosser, I don't think it's possible in-game.

Story + Readers = Good

Story + Readers + (Reader x Opinions) = Even Better, since I'd know what the readers think.

Story + Readers + (Reader x Opinions) + Cake = Same as Even Better; since the Cake is a lie, it counts as zero and does not change the equation.

(End beginning A/N)

* * *

"How do you want to go about this, sir?"

"Equip First Squad for Tactic FC, and leave Second Squad with command of the ship for ER."

"Yes sir, Captain Vonvarr, sir!" With a salute, the underling left with the orders. Looking over the weapons rack on his wall, the Marine Captain contemplated what he'd bring to fight a Ju-Ju user- over the years, many weapons were made useful, but almost all of them lacked field testing.

Eventually deciding on a combination, Vonvarr equipped himself for battle as the caravel sailed onward, staying true to the needle of the Eternal Pose in the hand of the man at the helm of the _Bucket_.

* * *

Unnoticed at he back of the group, a certain tall individual wearing bulky armor halted, and turned to face the distant horizon. The Detector of All Mannerisms of Magic and Interesting Things, reactivated during the stairway ascent, was giving off the faintest of indications that more magic was incoming.

Wishing he had a telescope, Steve squinted with eyes not yet fully recovered from the darkness. The only abnormal thing he could see was an oddly shaped rock on the very edge of the island, and that was as magical as most other rocks.

Shifting Robin more securely onto his pauldron, the Overlord ignored the miniscule pulse and continued after the rest of the group returning to the _Sunny_; since it only just appeared, it seemed safe to figure that the magic was headed for the island. It may not have been a _pleasant_ thought, but Steve didn't have much choice.

_Or... it may also be the bag interfering with the Detector..._ Stopping his pace, the Fattener of Slugs placed the bag on a nearby rock, followed by Robin. Moving a short distance away, he concentrated on the fainter readings from the DAMMIT.

The signal got stronger; it was definitely an incoming magic item. Still seeing nothing on the horizon, Steve tied the bag back onto its loop and re-hoisted Robin, continuing his trek towards the ship- but now, listening carefully for changes in the Detector's readings.

* * *

Confirming the status of the stew, a certain blond chef diligently prepared a dinner for his crew -though he only thought of two while he cooked- and the passenger; the entire group, except for Sanji, had been gone most of the day. Since their departure in late morning, many hours had passed and it would not be long until the sun sank from view.

While he was polishing two of the spoons laid out on the table, Sanji heard the footsteps of others boarding the ship. Jollified, he hurried out of the dining area, to see the two of the best things in his life...

... unconscious on the shoulders of others.

Utterly mortified, he completely failed to notice the other members of his crew who were also blacked out. His mortification did not slow him from leaping off the upper level and taking the navigator from his captain, though. If anything, it made him move faster.

"_No!_ What has happened? Are they alright! Say something! _NAMI~!"_

While Sanji cradled the unconscious Nami, the rest of the the conscious individuals placed the unconscious individuals into their individual bunkings, except for the armored individual who had not quite reached the ship.

"Some sort of burst knocked them out, almost me with it." His headache aggravated by the cook's despair, Franky answered Sanji's question before heading inside for a nap (The swordsman beat him to it by falling asleep face-down on the grass-covered deck). The captain however, caught a delicious scent from the dining room door and drifted towards it.

It wasn't until he had boarded and put the archaeologist on her bed that something clicked within the mind of the Overlord. "**Did... he say a 'burst' did it?**"

"_Wake, I beseech_- yeah, I think he did." The reverberating voice of Steve was disruptive enough to distract Sanji from the woman in his arms, amazingly. "Come to think of it, I think I felt that burst a while ago. It kind of felt like-" This time, it was the mind of Sanji that had a realization.

Not noticing the stare of the chef, Steve untied the invisible bag from his waist and set it in a corner of the deck. No longer burdened, he walked back onto the rocky surface of the island.

Still thinking, Sanji carried the navigator to the women's quarters, setting her on her bed before returning to the main deck. With narrowed and suspicious eyes, he watched the armored man walk away.

* * *

Looking out to sea once more, the Overlord searched the ocean for what aggravated the DAMMIT. He stood upon the edge of the island that sat closest to the direction of the oncoming signal, which was detected as approaching closer and closer with each passing moment.

Seating himself upon a rock, the man-in-a-super-can tended to his blade to pass the time.

* * *

"Why are we not there yet?"

"Sir! The wind's slightly against us; we're making much poorer time than usual because of it, sir!"

Moving menacingly close to his lackey, Vonvarr did his utmost to be threatening. "I'm going to be _very_ late to a _very_ important meeting because of the JJD's reading. You had _better_ make sure we at least get to the island in a timely fashion to check for the cause!"

His utmost was sufficient. "Y-yes sir! I-I'll try to acc-accelerate!"

After a quick glare at his wheelman, the captain trudged to the bow of the ship and pulled out his telescope. The destination was still a ways off but sure enough, the ship had begun to move with elevated alacrity.

More so than he had anticipated, even; as the dark blob expanded into rocky surface, Vonvarr considered giving his navigator a raise.

* * *

Though his mind was still a-flutter with suspicion, Sanji was still the only conscious member of the crew (he'd found Luffy engorged in the kitchen, snoring blissfully), and had taken it upon himself to tend to the two women who were in their quarters.

As he was about to check Nami's 'heartbeat', Sanji heard the archaeologist murmur something. Intrigued, he moved to the other bedside and leaned closer, listening to the words strewn between moments of silence.

"... ruin... Fortress..."

* * *

Arising from his rock, Steve placed his sword back on its loop as the ship slowed to a halt beside the island. Of its seemingly full crew, only a small portion disembarked; the rest steered the vessel back away from the island, where it stopped once more a short distance away.

At the front of the other group stood a fairly average-sized man, with what looked like a decorative full-length white coat over one shoulder. Other than the large bruise on one side of his face, there was nothing else terribly outstanding about the man.

The man in question, however, noticed a great many things about Steve. Firstly, the armor. Secondly, the slightly glowing sword. Thirdly, the slightly glowing man. Fourthly, the glowing eyes. Basically, Vonvarr noticed that the man glowed a lot.

"You there! Name and affiliation"

"**Oh, me?**"

"_No,_ the rock you were sitting on!"

"**Well, I named it 'Nht Vaery Khumphy', and it's from this island.**"

"Don't _make_ me come over there."

"**Who are you to ask my identity?**"

The Marine really wasn't liking this guy. "I am Captain Vonvarr of the Marines, assigned to watch over this island. I received a signal indicating that something was amiss, so here I am. Now, _who the bloody hell are you?_"

"**I've many titles. Would you like a basic one, all of them, my temporary name, or the official one?**"

"_Whatever, dammit!_"

"**I hail from a different reality. There I am known as the Overlord, who is the Leader of the Minion Army, among many other titles. Here, I am known as Steve. My **_**official**_** title,**" His eye twitched. "**is 'Most Overconfident Master.'**"

"I think I'll stick to 'Steve'. Did you say a different _reality_?"

"**Correct. Gem of inter-reality transportation. Broke after first use.**"

"Leader of the Minion Army too, yes?"

"**Indeed.**"

"Funny, because there's old documents that indicate an old foe was once called 'Leader of the Mins'; I can't help but notice a few similarities. That guy reportedly wore spiked armor and had a tendency to glow, not unlike you."

"**Fancy that.**"

"Say, you wouldn't happen to know who I'm talking about, would you?"

"**Oh, certainly. His corpse is nearby, in fact.**"

"You ..._found_ it?"

"**Well, yeah. It wasn't exactly **_**hidden**_**. Just out of curiosity, are the Marines a branch of the 'Government' that I've heard mentioned?**"

"Yes, we are. What of it?"

"**I've got a feeling,**" Steve released the Arcanium blade from its loop and held it loosely at his side. "y**ou aren't going to let me just be on my way.**"

"Must we resort to violence? Though it's true I'm under standing orders to detain anybody displaying a potential use of JuJu, it doesn't say it must be through defeat in combat."

"**Sorry. I haven't hit anything for several days, and my therapist says I must kill things quite often.**"_Though Gnarl may not count as a therapist._

"Very well." The Marine made a quick hand signal to his ship, which unfurled its sails and began to move. Handing his coat to a lackey, Vonvarr took a long box from a different subordinate.

The armored man tensed as the box was revealed; Vonvarr smiled to himself, assured that 'Steve' was indeed connected to the ancient Leader. "You mind if I monologue?"

"**Could you keep it short?**"

"This item, in short, was taken from a ship belonging to the Min Leader. It's been given to each Captain assigned to oversee this island." Withdrawing the pulsating sword from the box, Vonvarr turned back to his opponent. "It's purpose since the Government obtained it has been to defeat JuJu-"

_-WHRANK-_

-_KARUNCH_-

Blinking a few times, Vonvarr stared at where Steve _was_, then turned to look at where the armored man had landed, before returning his gaze to the blond man who had sent several hundred pounds of flesh and armor flying with but a single kick.

"**Gah! What the hell, Sanji!**" Bruised and quite possibly broken in a few places, Steve pried himself out of the rock that he'd impacted very quickly. And painfully. He was developing a distaste for solid surfaces due to incidents involving craters.

"Finally... found... you... bastard..." Though gasping for air heavily, Sanji still managed to squeeze off a few words.

"Pardon me, but who are you?"

"Cook... of... Straw-... Hat... crew..."

"Oh, Straw-Hats? Shame. If I wasn't already after the armored man, I'd be going for you and your group. But," Vonvarr took a seat on a nearby stone. "I'm currently in no rush, so please- go ahead and beat on him a bit. Makes my job _so_ much more relaxing."

"**Dammit, there goes **_**another**_** rib-**" This time seeing the attack, Steve managed to raise Sanctuary before more important skeletal parts were broken. "**Stop! Why are you attacking me?**"

"_For- what- you- did- to- her!_"

Keeping Sanctuary active against the flurry of ridiculously powerful kicks, the Impenetrable One tried to figure out what the man was talking about. "**Who?**"

"Robin- you- jackass!"

"**Rob- wait, are you attacking me because I car-**"

"_Shaddap!_"

With an impressed whistle, Vonvarr watched the blond man send Steve flying once more despite the protective bubble that had been erected.

* * *

_-Several minutes before-_

"_... ruin... Fortress..."_

_Confused, Sanji continued to listen to the murmurs of the unconscious woman. Some of the mumbles ended short of completion, but were still mildly distinguishable:_

"_... Vanquisher... Records... items... Over... totem... Grinder... Mins... Goldo... doorway... foe... Leader... Ravager... Damsel..._"

_Since his fury grew bigger with each mumble, Sanji's mind ceased standard interpretation. Because of this, he heard the last two as 'Ravager of Damsels'. Given the state of the person saying such things, he put two and two together to produce five. _

_His anger directed towards one man in particular, the chef ran out of the women's quarters and jumped onto the island in search of the target of his wrath._

* * *

"**For future -**_**rgh**_**- reference, this is self-defense.**" His patience exhausted, his questions unanswered and his mana levels rapidly falling, Steve expanded Sanctuary with enough force to send the berserk chef over the edge of the island. After a few seconds, there was a satisfying splash.

"Was that necessary? I had two hundred fifty on him winning."

"**I couldn't really hit him given certain circumstances. May we continue?**"

Pulling his own magic blade from its sheath, Marine Captain Vonvarr smiled and rose from his rock.

* * *

Aboard the _Thousand Sunny_, none were awake. Those who had been conscious earlier were now sleeping or swimming, and those who had been unconscious remained so. Uninterrupted by an alert crew, a Marine silently severed the anchoring lines and climbed back aboard the Marine caravel which slowly towed the much larger brig-sloop away from land.

At the helm of the caravel Bucket stands the Sergeant of Second Squad, who is pulling off one of the most flawless instances of Tactic ER- Eliminate Reinforcements.

Flawless, that is, except for the difference in ship size; a caravel wasn't exactly built to haul a ship several times its own bulk. The extremely slow speed at which they were pulling the pirate ship was much less than the generally accepted minimum for Tactic ER.

But since there were no angry crewmen to hinder their progress, Second Squad tugged on, cables spread from their stern to the _Sunny_'s prow.

* * *

"Have you gotten more images from the Master's armor?"

Grinning, Giblet nodded. "Yes! Yes! Many more images than last time! Time until next chat with Master not affected, because of mana burst!"

"Splendid! Don't dawdle, start the show!"

As Giblet tinkered, images captured from the alternate dimension slid into view onto the puddle. First, one of the locals holding up three fingers (1 of 5 on the Eviluative Glare scale).

"What in the blazes? Last time, there was chaos! Rocks flying about! Now we have some local holding up _fingers_? Bah, go to the next!"

The second image wasn't any more promising; it was just more darkness, though slightly illuminated by something out of view. Even so, it was just a mess of pillars with crude carvings that might have been scratched in by a complete ret-

_Hang on a second_... Squinting at one set of markings, Gnarl tried to remember where he'd seen that symbol before. _It's... almost Minion, yet..._

Giblet tried to help, with the comment: "That pillar look old..."

_Old... Ancient... Ancient Minion?_ "Can you make that carving there bigger?" The image blurred slightly, and the carvings were enlarged slightly. _That's... 'Leader'! Over there, that is... no way..._

'_Black Fortress'_

"Next image! Now!"

The picture changed, to more darkness- but none of the pillars were clear enough, or were too worn to read. Barking commands, Gnarl flipped through several images- only one or two images after the first, and it got too dark to read the carvings. Obedient to the frustrated orders, Giblet continued through the selection until Gnarl called a stop.

"A wall... let's see here: 'Channeling... juju... into a sheep'? No, no, that can't be right. Ah, that makes more sense! 'Juju... throughout... thy... unicorn'? No, 'core'. Next image!"

Next was a torch-lit room; a dilapidated bed frame off to one side, and a large stone container at the other, but nothing else of interest.

"Next!"

This image was that of a plaque; "'Here lies... Leader'... this couldn't be... 'born', 'died', 'yoolahjee', yada yada... the heck is that symbol with a circle around it...? Next!"

His jaw fell wide when Gnarl beheld the next image: a suit of old armor, battered beyond use but still imposing, and a pile of items glowing with magical energy... "N-next image!"

Excitement dimmed as he saw the next image: a book. The pages were being flipped through, so he couldn't see enough of a single page to read it. "Next!" This time he could read some of it, it said something about fish and gigantic sharks. "Next!"

The book was now gone, replaced with the image of the entire room; as though the Master had backed to a far corner. To Gnarl, this did not mean much in particular, though he did notice that one of the women from the crew was crumpled in a far corner (Potential 3.5 of 5 Evility).

"Keep going, Giblet," Shimmering yet again, the pool changed back to the large dark room that was filled with pillars; though because of said dark, Gnarl couldn't see if there even _were_ any carvings along the supports. Yet again, the elderly Minion had to watch as several images of blackness flowed across the water, until light finally returned.

"That there, in the corner- Giblet, does that look like a woman's rear to you?"

"Giblet think... it could be?"

"I like where this could be headed, then! Next image!"

Much to Gnarl's disappointment, the next image was of another man- though he couldn't see much more than that, because it was a close-up of his eyes, with bands of shadow above and below. Behind the face, though, Gnarl could see a round weed captured in mid-roll.

"Eh, did you put in the strips of darkness?"

"Giblet not Shop images. These all raw."

"'Shop'? Never mind, next!"

"This next is last of current set,"

The final image displayed across the water made Gnarl slightly happier- the eyes from before now had a body, and it looked like one of Good; the suit he wore just _oozed_ 'Arrogant Good Guy'. But what particularly caught the elderly Minion's eye was what the man held- a sword, glowing with an aura only present on the absolute _strongest_ magic items ever crafted.

For Gnarl, this meant that the Master would either die a painful death or return to the Dark Tower with a legendary haul in tow.

For Giblet, this meant "Sword sparkly..."

* * *

(Begin end A/N)

Because of the impending ending, I've been considering various scenarios to finish this story with. I haven't really decided on one, so it'd be nice to know what the readers think of the story as I update it.

I don't mean to suggest endings, but it helps if the readers do reviews; if I know what the readers' opinions are of the story, I may be able to adjust the ending to be more favorable to the tastes of those who read it. No guarantees, though; I don't think my current 'Most Likely Scenario' ending will go over too well, but it's still the... well, 'Most Likely Scenario'.

As a conclusion to this Author's Note: I have the irking feeling that Sanji going berserk might be out of character.

(End end A/N)


	10. Wolves Might Be Smarter

(Beginning A/N)

TV Tropes has ruined my life! I am in despair! TV Tropes has left me in despair! (and one of these days, I'll get around to seeing the series I just referenced. But I can't, since _reading TV Tropes is taking too much of my free time!_ AGH!)

Non-One Piecers: Sanji's Wanted poster is... a bad rendition, I suppose one could say. Sanji isn't pleased about it.

Non-Overlorders: Yeah, I'm not even bothering to look at Overlord canon at this point. In fact, the last time I did that was when I took note of the titles as they were being listed by the jester.

And I can't decide if it would be hilarious or depressing if 4Kids had dubbed the name as 'Lolonoa'.

(End beginning A/N)

* * *

_The ship... feels like its moving... there weren't any plans to leave the island, before I took a nap... Nami was still unconscious, so they probably would not have set a course... maybe the ship got loose from the island? Nah, the anchoring lines were checked..._

Passing it off as his imagination, the swordsman stopped thinking and returned to his sleep. A few feet away, the Marine that had accidentally awoken him began to breathe again, returning carefully to his task aboard the brig-sloop.

* * *

Backpedaling and parrying, the Overlord was fully aware of the fact that he was rapidly losing ground in his efforts to not be touched by the blade. Were it a normal weapon, he would nigh ignore it and let it break against his armor- but, this was no ordinary weapon. He'd figured that out fairly quickly, when a glancing blow left a deep scar in the front of his helm.

For the fourth time in mere seconds of combat, Steve went over the facts. _Firstly, the sword can cut through Arcanium. Secondly, that includes both my sword and armor. Duh. Thirdly, it does so distressingly easily. Fourthly, this Marine fellow is annoyingly tenacious._

Steve's standard method of combat (swing swing whack) was pretty much useless; so, for the time being, he was doing his best to parry the other sword by hitting the flat of its blade.

It was not a fun task, to say the least. Because he had to concentrate on the other sword, he couldn't focus enough into mana circulation to raise a shield, for whatever good it would have done.

His opponent was thinking more optimistic thoughts: _ah, yes! The stories of this blade are true! Even this JuJu-using man is afraid! It's not just a showy glow stick after all! I might get promoted for this guy's defeat- oooh, maybe I'll get a better duty than what I have now..._

Watching another chunk of Arcanium fall away from one of his gauntlets, Steve's thought process went even more into overdrive. _Continue like this = pain, likely death. Alternatives: few to none. Scratch that: _sane_ alternatives: few to none. Nigh suicidal alternatives: They exist. Gauntlets: Probably going to need to be replaced. That sword: want. This guy: probably won't surrender it easily. All right, plan: lunge when he's preparing his next wide att- hang on, why am I fighting fair?_

Continuing his retreat until he reached a good spot, Steve then forced the Marine backward with a wild, barely controlled swing. Taking advantage of the short break, he dropped to one knee.

Interpreting the move as a loss of balance, Vonvarr stepped forward and raised his own sword for the final blow. Unfortunately, as soon as he stepped forward he got a handful of dirt and pebbles flung into his face, followed by an armored kick to the shin and a gauntlet grabbing onto and twisting his sword arm.

Holding the Arcanium blade against the man's neck, Steve got a closer look at the weapon that could render his armor useless. It was painfully average looking, past the glow; if it weren't for the luminescence, he wouldn't look twice at it- though, there were some very small markings along the blade.

Before he could read the inscription just above the hilt, Steve felt something quite sharp sink into his right thigh.

Falling onto his knee again, the Overlord let out a rumbling grunt- a dagger version of the larger blade, gripped by the free hand of the Marine, had pierced the Arcanium plating. Hoping that nothing important got severed, the Impenetrable One raised his gaze back to the other man.

His eyes still watering from the pebbles, Vonvarr leered. "You fight dirty, I fight dirty."

"**Fa-**_**rgh**_**- enough.**" Shoving the Marine away, Steve then yanked the small weapon out of his leg and threw it to the side.

* * *

Swimming in a circle around the island, Sanji sought a place where he could get out of the ocean- but to no avail, as all he could find was the vertical cliff face of the island.

Once he had hit the water, the rage subsided slightly- he still wanted to beat the armored guy into a metallic pulp, but at least he could think somewhat clearer. Only somewhat, though- whenever he thought of Steve, the fury rose again.

Having swum around most of the island, Sanji stared at the cliff face he floated in front of, trying to remember. _That looks familiar... I think... yes! The ship was moored... right... here..._

After staring at the cliff face for a few seconds, the chef looked higher and saw the severed ropes that had been anchoring the _Sunny_. Confused, he looked to the other direction- and saw two ships far in the distance, one of which had the familiar color scheme of the vessel he sought- and the familiar logo, on the sails which were being lowered.

Seeing the vague symbol of the Marines on the other ship, Sanji recalled that nobody else was conscious when he left. Fear for his beloveds then drove him to swim at a nearly record-breaking speed towards the two vessels.

* * *

Stumbling backward, the Great and Mighty Overlord placed a hand over the damaged portion of his armor, and the gash across his abdomen- it was not a terribly deep wound, but it still hurt.

Their armor and suit ragged, the two duelists breathed heavily- one stood lopsided, a leg unreliable and an injury in his torso, the other having trouble seeing and one arm limply at his side, as blood spread across his suit from the wound near his shoulder.

Forcing himself steady, Steve raised his left arm and pointed it at the Marine, palm out.

"Is... that a... surrender?" Eyes watering and shoulder oozing, Vonvarr glared at his enemy.

"'**Fraid not.**" His already rough voice made gruffer by injury, the Leader of the Fire Starters took the opportunity to concentrate his mana for the first time that fight.

Raising his weapon, the Marine had to squint- though his vision was already blurry, the armored man's slightly wavy aura seemed to be getting... wavier. Getting the indication that what what the JuJu user was doing would be poor for his health, Vonvarr charged forward to try and interrupt his opponent.

Fortunately for Steve, Fireball was quite a quick spell.

Fortunately for Vonvarr, he reflexively raised the sword in a block.

Unfortunately for Steve, the Marine's sword could apparently destroy a Fireball.

Unfortunately for Vonvarr, the Overlord had good reflexes.

Staggering sideways from the force of the armored backhand, the Marine found himself on the defensive as his opponent, now even more wary of the sword, begun hurling nearby rock chunks.

Wincing from the damage to his body, Steve gritted his teeth and continued his barrage of stones, almost all of which were being knocked aside by the luminescent blade.

_Hang on... knocked aside?_

Curious, he hefted a larger rock, took careful aim, and hurled. The stone soared true, and was parried by the Marine's weapon.

_But... that sword cut through Arcanium, yet... rocks are merely struck aside, not cut..._

Having an idea, Steve plunged his chipped blade into a nearby rock and hefted it, converting his blade into a makeshift club- sure enough, Vonvarr's eyes widened slightly, and he shifted to a more defensive stance.

"**That sword of yours... how well does it cut non-magic?**" Bleeding and limping, the Master of Arcanium Weaponry moved towards his opponent.

"I... don't know what y-you're talking about..."

Snarling at the effort of hefting his weightier weapon while weakened, the partially crippled man started another offensive.

* * *

"Sergeant! Assignment completed!" Having returned from the pirate ship, the crewman saluted his superior.

"Good. What of the pirates?"

"One of the crew woke briefly, but didn't notice me and went back to sleep. It's possible that it won't take much to awaken him again."

"What of the others aboard the ship?"

"I checked some of the other areas of the vessel, and it doesn't seem that anybody else is conscious; however, I did not see anybody even remotely similar to the picture on Black-Leg's poster there. It's possible he's aboard the ship but in hiding, or is back at the island."

"If he's on the island, then the Captain will likely be able to handle- what are you gawking at?" Turning around, the Sergeant looked back towards the island, where his subordinate's eyes had widened.

Rapidly closing the distance was what looked to be a person swimming at a nearly impossible speed, complete with plumes of water stretching into the air. Guessing that the swimmer's intentions were likely not going to be pleasant, on the basis that nobody in First Squad could move that fast under _any_ condition and therefore was not an ally, the Sergeant commanded Second Squad to prepare for combat.

* * *

"_The Man-Eating Gingerbread_, no... _Storm White_, no... _Ditzy Frumpty_, _Girl in the Boot, The Lad Who Screeched Dragon_, _no!_" With an aggravated snarl, Gnarl slammed the book back onto the bookshelf, sending the Browns carrying said bookshelf staggering away, as more Browns endeavored to heft other bookshelves up and down the various connecting starwells.

It could be going faster, except the Reds would ignite the books, the Greens would likely smear... stuff on them, and the Blues could get them wet. With only the Browns allowed to touch the bookshelves, their non-delicate procedure of handling things led to several instances of falling back down the stairs and knocking over any groups that were behind their own.

The Forge Master, who had been standing off to the side for most of the chaos, shuffled forward and tapped Gnarl on the shoulder.

"What, Giblet?"

"What you looking for?"

"A book called _Old Dark_. It's not in any of these, and those blasted Browns can't-" Unseen by Gnarl as the elderly Minion ranted about the clumsiness and overall inability of Browns to coordinate something without an imposing Master nearby, Giblet hurried down the stairs to the Forge.

Clutching a monstrous volume, the Brown hurried back towards the senior Minion, who was glaring murderously at a group that had gotten a shelf as far as the top step before dropping it back down.

"This... what want?"

"Eh? Ooh! Yes indeed, Giblet! Where was it?"

"In... Forge; height... booster... detailing... armor."

"At least it's not among a mess of others, I suppose. Now, where is that..." Flipping through the heavy compilation, Gnarl sought... and sought... and cursed the lack of an index... and searched, and finally found. "A-_HA_! Found the entry, the sly bugger! Giblet, have you ever gotten the chance to sit in during a reading of this thing?"

"Can't... 'member..." Though mostly unable to speak because he was still holding the book as Gnarl flipped through it, the Minion tried anyway.

"It's one of the oldest Minion books- a rarity among rares, as Minions are exceptionally inarticulate. Predates almost every other book that has been compared to it, and if something the last entry said is true, then it's a relevant thing right now..."

* * *

Both fighters struggled, though both were weakened; one from blood loss, pain, and a heavy weapon; the other from a lower degree of blood loss, pain, and blocking the crushing blows of the club-sword that were making his good arm less and less usable.

With the fourth rock having flown off the tip of his sword, Steve took a few steps backward and endeavored to catch his breath while hoping that the regenerative capability of his armor wasn't damaged. Also taking advantage of the lapse, Vonvarr wished the tingling in his arms would fade enough to continue fighting.

"**Do... you... surrender?**"

"No... do... you... surrender?"

"**No... resistance... futile... surrender**_**...**_"

"Never... how... about... you... surrender... in... face... of... Marines?"

"**Fat... chance... yield... or die...**"

"Not... in hundred... years..."

Pulling their worn selves back into readiness, one combatant raised his blade and the other stabbed a rock with his own.

* * *

Thoroughly wishing he had prepared for a tougher opponent, the Sergeant and a fourth of Second Squad slammed into the railing, as the others were similarly beaten down by "Black-Leg".

At least, they _guessed_ he was Black-Leg. He had the hair, eyebrow, and the suit seemed to match the color scheme shown in the poster. Though, when shown the poster, the man got much more violent before the Marines could ask about his identity.

* * *

"D'you think we should... dunno... help the cap'n?"

The Marine to the speaker's right shook his head. "Nah, he didn't give any order about joining in."

"But, he's sort of getting... beaten..." To enforce the point, the club-sword slammed into Vonvarr's foot.

"He'd, um, call for us if he needed us, I'm sure." The captain's sword barely scraped through a pauldron. "See? He's scoring hits, he'll be fine."

"Maybe we should get ready, just in case he _does_ need us?"

Not answering immediately, First Squad's second-in-command continued to watch the fight- they were seeming more and more evenly matched, now that the armored man was sticking rocks on his sword- and an even match was never a good thing. "Uh, yeah, on second thought, help me load this..."

* * *

If the darkness had a conscience, it would begin to be wary of that which occurred above; the guns were being loaded with specialty rounds, which could could very well be able to cause structural damage to the island and its internal caverns.

Were it in possession of thought, it would recognize that the man clad in metal was rapidly losing any chance at an upper hand the longer the fight wore on. The darkness would rapidly become aware of the fact that, if it had any, its best interests were not reflected with the intentions of the man in the white (and stained red) suit, and would therefore attempt to assist the man in armor.

However, the darkness is not a conscious entity. It lacks sentience and any sense of self-preservation, and is therefore absolutely incapable of altering any factor in the conflict taking place on top of the structure the darkness eternally stays idle within.

* * *

_Until a short time ago, I, Pothole, was a member of the Min Legion, _previously_ situated within the Black Fortress__, which, prior to unexplained circumstances, sat in the Blood Plains. Now, however, there's talk of renaming that area the Blood Crater, and the local races have been having celebrations nonstop since the disappearance of the Fortress._

_Despite repeated raids by the remaining Min Legion (which had been on a long-term harassment assignment at the time of the... disappearance), the races refuse to acknowledge that the absence of the Leader is most probably going to be a temporary thing. In fact, they've been forming allegiances in order to drive the last of the Legion away; it's utterly unnatural, to see the dwarves charging alongside elves, or half-lings among humans._

_An abomination though it may be, the combined strengths of these races is truly terrifying- though mostly because a single one of those races would outnumber the remaining Min Legion much more than a few hundred, maybe even some thousand, to one.. Facing such ill odds, I believe I will have no choice but to pull the Mins into hiding until our numbers have replenished enough to build a new Black Bastion._

_That's what I was talking about! The Black Fortress! Where it once sat lies naught but a crater; the ground is not torn, but rather... spherical, as though a great ball of land was taken from the area, the Fortress included._

_It's a mildly disturbing notion. No more disturbing, however, than the thought of Evil being forced to hide for an extended period of time; it gives me shudders of disgust and anticipation, merely thinking about the Goodness that will flourish and the smoke embracing the skies as it is burned back into the dirt._

_My my, sidetracked yet again. I will leave a chest that, among other things, will contain the blueprints for a planned Black Watchtower, to be built when the Mins have reestablished their grasp on the realm. I chose a Black Watchtower, because it's the absolute smallest construction plan I'm aware was ever even drawn- the Leader's advisers have a tendency to think extremely large-scale, which makes it difficult to select a new Black Bastion for the future._

_This is the final account of the Age of the Black Horde, ruled by the Leader of the Mins until his (and the Fortress, and almost all of Min-kind's) disappearance. The Age lasted for several years, ever since the Leader was raised by wild Mins as a young'un to the years of his life when his hair turned to lighter shades and the scars began to ache._

_This is Pothole, Min Captain and Ink-spreader, entering the last entry into the book _Olde Dark_, which contains the stories of all the great Min advisers._

"Pothole's... Master just... disappear?"

Nodding grimly, the elderly Minion closed the old tome, which was promptly set on the floor by Giblet. "Yes; it's one of the Great Mysteries of the realm, what happened to the Black Legion- even for the Good races, it's ranked alongside the location of the Gold Water and the validity of the Magenta Crown. All that is known is that the Leader of the Mins was a scourge for all Goodness, a legend among Evil, that disappeared and took his hordes with him. Minus our ancestors, of course."

"So why you want this back out?"

"I wanted to re-read that final entry," Rubbing his chin, Gnarl looked back at the waters of the Tower Heart's pool. "It would seem possible that our Master has found the Bastion of legend, and I could only hope that its contents were not too disturbed..."

* * *

As the last Marine hit the deck, the chef had to resist the urge to risk another look at the bounty poster laying on the wood, instead distracting himself from it by severing the lines connecting the caravel to the _Thousand Sunny._

Jumping across to the now loose pirate vessel, the chef considered his next course of action; his anger still bubbled on a much lesser level, alongside worry for the navigator and archaeologist and irritation at everyone else for allowing harm to get such a close proximity to them.

Deciding that he'd rather not risk the safety of the two women again, Sanji took hold of the wheel and turned the ship away from the seemingly bare island and the men fighting upon it.

* * *

Falling to his knees for what he knew to be the last time that fight, Steve tried but failed to move his left arm; his right held his weapon, and was unavailable to try and withdraw the blade from his chest.

With more of a rustle than a clatter, his opponent also fell, the rock at the end of the Arcanium blade having caused damage to several parts of his shoulder and skull. Blood flowed from, between both fighters, just about every region of their bodies.

While the possibly concussed Marine had mercifully lost consciousness from the severity of his wounds, the Overlord was not as lucky in that regard. Though, this allowed him to see the captain's subordinates move forward in an orderly fashion, swords raised and other weapons leveled at the man who knelt, seemingly defenseless.

Deciding that being captured by _lackeys_ was not the most fulfilling way to go, the Overlord released his weapon and raised his left arm using his right, pointing the hand towards the oncoming group and painfully striking two fingers together.

-_Kfwoosh!_-

Finally allowing himself to fall over, Steve clung to consciousness only long enough for a certain magical system to activate in his armor.

Much to his blurry dismay, something else activated in its place.

"_Due to extreme damage sustained by the Arcanium Armor, all internal systems have been deactivated due to safety reasons. The deactivated systems include: Heating & Cooling. Detector of All Mannerisms of Magic and Interesting Things. Health Regeneration. Minion Management Crystal. EI Minion Radio. Automatic Bookie. Evil Day Planner, and other nonessential systems. Please seek maintenance for your Arcanium armor immediately, as it is has taken extreme damage. Now listing damaged areas: pauldron, left: needs replacement-_"

By this time, the wearer of aforementioned damaged armor had already ceased being conscious.

* * *

(Begin end A/N)

It's weird, thinking of various tropes _as I write them_. Very distracting.

_Koffkoff__ newpoll koffkoff_

(End end A/N)


	11. Screams Never Heard

(A/N)

I should probably raise my standards; there's more than 30 shows/movies on my To-Watch list, around 40 if one includes things I only watched part of yet still want to finish.

And dammit, I _still_ can't remember for certain what Zoro refers to Robin as. So I'm guessing he uses her name, because I'm too lazy to look into it.

… Come to think of it, it's been a while since I've binged on One Piece. Perchance I should, since I'm writing something that features it and all.

(End A/N)

* * *

Spinning the wheel to port and away from the island, the chef aboard the _Sunny_ considered ruffling through his pockets for a cigarette that was dry enough to burn.

But before he could solidly decide, the wheel stopped moving with the sound of wood striking wood- more precisely, a scabbard placed through the spokes to keep it from spinning further.

"I don't recall hearing about plans to leave quite yet." Scratching his head with the hand not holding the sword, the formerly napping and still slightly sore swordsman eyed the man who had his hands on the wheel.

"That island's got trouble on it."

Upon Zoro's face, a mocking smirk grew spontaneously. "Oh, is the _lechef_ thinking he can't protect a certain two someones from a couple of what, rocks? Or," He tilted his head towards the caravel of unconscious men, "from a few Marines?"

"It's not as much 'can't protect' as 'don't want to put them close to a situation that may turn risky'." Leaning back from the wheel, Sanji pushed the scabbard out of the spokes and rummaged through his damp pockets. "And '_Steve_' is back there, as well."

"You still suspicious of him?"

"Aren't _you_?"

"I don't trust him, but I'm not wary of his every move."

Having found a relatively dry cigarette, Sanji began trying to ignite his similarly waterlogged lighter. "Was he ever out of sight when you all went on land?"

"If what I know is right, then he, Franky, and those two," Zoro gestured vaguely in the direction of the women's quarters, "were inside the island for a while, before I... dropped in. After that, Steve wandered off somewhere and was followed by Robin. They weren't seen for a while, and it wasn't until after the pulse thing that Steve returned carrying her."

"Unconscious, I presume."

"He didn't have his weapon at the time, and Robin can protect herself- probably better than most of us can handle ourselves."

"But he's got that 'magic', too."

"And she can sprout more arms than I've got memories. Steve's magic doesn't cancel out Devil Fruits, as we witnessed... during that incident." Sliding the sheathed katana back into its spot with the others, Zoro turned to descend to a lower deck. "If nothing else, she could slow him down enough to get away; he isn't nimble in that armor, as we also saw… at that time."

"Hey, now," Sanji leaned against the wheel, and spoke with a tone of compromise, "we all agreed never to talk about... that event. And I'm not gonna turn us back to that island unless we get a vote to do so."

"I'll get the spare anchor."

* * *

"What do you _mean_, 'Error'?"

"It not able to connect to Master's armor," Tinkering with the jury-rigged mechanigical levers near the Tower Heart, Giblet struggled to get the link operational. "All it say is something about not finding four-hundred-four."

The elderly Minion nearby grimaced; the designers of the Tower Heart's link system had defected to the previous Overlord's posse, and because of that they were also long dead and squashed by the new Master- which meant nobody knew the more advanced workings of the Heart, past image capture and the Seek function. "Try again every few minutes, he may be shielded from magic right now."

* * *

Seaman Wilbert had to blink a few times, rub his eyes, turn around, take a few breaths and look back to the scene before what he saw finally computed: Captain, down in a spreading pool of blood; enemy, also down in the same pool; rest of First Squad: barbequed in a charred circle not far from the captain and his opponent.

Rubbing his chin while he beheld the scene, Wilbert wondered just what he had missed when he had been around the rocks relieving himself.

* * *

Big, bright light... so pretty... I should get a pony and prance through-

_Forcing himself out of that thought process, Steve examined his surroundings- and saw not much. The immediate area? White as snow. The distance? White as a white egg. Sky? White as a shut-in's backside. The only thing _not_ bright and painful to look at was his own body, which Steve offhandedly noticed was still covered in the wounds he had received before he had lost consciousness._

_Remembering what he'd been doing prior to blacking out, the Overlord looked around with renewed vigor- he couldn't see anything, not even a door that would lead out; temporarily ruling out a prison cell, he took a breath and realized that the _air_ tasted white._

_As he calmed down, the bright surroundings began to dim- slowly at first, but rapidly falling into an absolute blackness so dark, he could have sworn it got several shades brighter when he blinked._

_After a few moments of Steve blindly squinting, a voice came from nowhere, reverberating and grating as though spoken by someone with a respiratory illness whispering loudly through a tunnel: "Name, man?"_

_To the Overlord's slightly fuzzy senses, it came from all directions- even from inside his head, which was just freakin' _weird_. "__**Some call me Steve.**__"_

"_Occupation, 'Steve'?"_

"_**Overlord, Minion Master. Could you make it less dark?**__"_

"_I've no control over that. _Minion_ Master, you say?"_

"_**Yes; I'm from a... uh... different dimension, I suppose.**__"_

"_That seems... say, do you prefer trees, rocks, or daisies?"_

"_**... Trees?**__"_

_Abruptly the scenery changed to a pleasingly dank forest, complete with skeletons hanging from branches._

"_**I thought you said you had no control over that?**__"_

"_I don't, but you do."_

"… _**Eh?**__"_

"_It's not terribly relevant. Anyway, why are you in this 'dimension'?"_

_With a slight frown, Steve contemplated. "__**I… am not entirely sure. At first, I came to find ability-giving fruits; but I'm not sure it will be entirely worth it.**__"_

"_How so?"_

"_**This dimension is nigh beyond my league. My death will be an eternal probability if I linger.**__"_

"_Because of that Marine and his resources?"_

"_**As well as those I have traveled with. They are not the type that would condone what I habituallydo to towns I come across, and I strongly doubt I could hold out against even a few of them for more than a couple of moments.**__"_

"_But there is magic, and the items in the tomb."_

"_**At least a third of the crew could probably still defeat me in single combat even **_**if**_** I possessed such articles at the time. Who are you, anyway?**__"_

"_All that is relevant to you is that my main goal is to… reorganize, in a sense."_

"… _**Reorganize?**__"_

"_You may understand at a later time. Anyhow, weren't you bleeding profusely before you blacked out?"_

_Alarmed at the mention of his injuries, the Overlord looked down at his body- when he arrived at the white area, the wounds had been dormant; but as soon as he looked at and consciously evaluated them, blood once again flowed from just about every part of his body._

_Suddenly losing strength, he fell to his knees, barely avoiding a face-first collapse to the damp dirt. Looking around the dank surroundings, he sought the origin of the voice, though his vision blurring quickly hampered the result somewhat. As the last of his stamina ebbed away, Steve fell to his side on the bloody mud and grass of the forest._

_A dark shape formed and approached in no hurry; a slender yet definitely not small figure, walking with a shadow of authority. The voice returned, this time from the direction of the shape as Steve fell back into unconsciousness._

"_Shameful; you're a Master with such pitiful endurance?"_

* * *

Of the two men rapidly losing their blood on the surface, one of them had the best chance of benefiting the island –at least, he wouldn't harm it like the other guy probably would- with their objectives. If the island were to, say, try and motivate itself to assist its potential benefactor, then said benefactor might not bleed to death.

But, there is no conscience in rock, no mind in shadow, not enough cognitive ability in rats to do anything to assist the man.

Passing through the shadows and the flooded sections, through the stone and past the oblivious rats, a remnant of a person grumbled to itself about the general inanimate-ness of the island and the effort required to assist the man on the surface.

* * *

Cautiously edging towards the two unconscious men stuck together by their blades, Wilbert raised his own weapon- a standard-issue rifle, complete with a serrated bayonet he'd added as a personal touch. Though, given the fact that the captain's 'special circumstances' blade had been damaging the armor, the Marine strongly doubted his bayonet would do much.

It took several moments of inching forward, but he finally found himself standing over the man in armor. Tensely raising his firearm, Wilbert carefully aimed the barrel at a gap between the helmet and the metal around the base of the neck.

As he was factoring in the angles of potential ricochet, a slight shimmer rose behind Wilbert, rising directly from the stone surface of the island. Feeling something amiss, the Marine quickly spun with his gun at the ready.

Seeing nothing immediately threatening, he frowned and slowly turned back towards the man on the ground. As he was doing so, he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and spun back away from the two bodies.

Again, nothing at first, though several shifty glances indicated the possibility an ever-so-slight distortion, fainter than even those over a small flame. Upon further squinting, the disfigured air seemed to roughly be about the height of a normal, though slightly short, man.

As Wilbert was about to utter a shaky request of identification, the shimmering form abruptly moved towards the downed combatants- and directly through the Marine standing in the way.

* * *

_Failing to care that the man it passed through fell to the ground drooling and unconscious, the entity 'knelt' at the side of the one in tattered metal. With an annoyed sigh at the atrocious condition of both the armor and its bearer, the being held a hand over the general torso area of the Overlord._

* * *

Rudely yanked out of unconsciousness, Steve's back was forced into an arch as the armor went partially haywire; every warning signal was going off at once, including the ones for 'Too Much Mana' and 'Out Of Mana'. After several moments he was able to make sense of his senses, as his vision cleared and the ringing in his ears faded, replaced by external ringing and Gnarl's pre-recorded voice.

"_Warning. Warning. Forced reboot. Warning. Forcing the Arcanium Armor back online may permanently damage the Arcanium Armor and internal systems. Internal systems coming back online. Evil Day Planner reactivated. Note: Spree due for monthly suppression. Automatic Bookie reactivated. Heating & Cooling reactivated. Minion Management Crystal reactivating… Note: Minion Management Crystal unable to reactivate fully due to no nearby Minions providing reference for calibration. Health Regeneration reactivated._"

As the time-delayed healing feature of his armor slowly kicked in, the shredded plating jerked again. Too weakened by blood loss to resist the seizing of his garment, the Overlord gritted his teeth and waited for the magic to… do its magic.

Once the system had sealed his wounds, the emergency protocols no longer saw an immediate threat to Steve's health. Since he was now no longer actively losing blood, Health Regeneration began the more delicate and less demanding task of regenerating said blood, changing the violent spasms into an occasional twitch.

Taking the opportunity, the Overlord raised an arm and set his palm against the cross guard of the Marine's weapon, and pushed it out. It hurt, a _lot_, not to mention another round of strong twitches that took several seconds to stop as the wound was closed by the regenerative system.

Painfully rising from the blood-covered rock, Steve then discovered that blood loss was a terrible, terrible thing. As soon as he started moving, things went woozy. When he tried to stand upright, Steve's vision went wobbly and he staggered, body at a sharp angle, until his shoulder sharply met a rock.

"_Warning. Movement is not advised. Detector of All Mannerisms of Magic and Interesting Things reactivated._" After an extremely short moment of silence, the DAMMIT then indicated to a few feet away from where the Overlord had been previously setting, where a slight shimmer hovered.

And it indicated _loudly_. As in, Steve hadn't had a headache until that moment, and clutched at his helmeted skull as he collapsed back to the ground.

* * *

"_Seriously? You're unstable after losing _that_ much blood? Have you no shame? Grow- okay, I'll sympathize with you on that noise, but you're still a shameful Master in most other regards."_

_With a pained snarl at his armor, the man shut the squealing system off. The bored entity waited, irritated, as the man slowly rose back to his feet with one arm braced against the rock he'd collided with. His progress faltered as the damaged armor over one leg gave a slight spasm, nearly sending him down to a knee._

_During this, the entity made a largely unpleased facial expression. Losing patience rapidly, anger slid into its voice. "Do you need a few moments to recover? Or can you move without falling over now?"_

_In response, the man in shredded armor emitted a resonating mix of a grunt, a growl, and an exclamation of pain through clenched teeth as he pushed away from the rock to stand, albeit shakily, on his legs. Not hesitating, the entity moved towards the center of the island, followed by the unsteady Master._

"_**Why do you want my help?**__" Each word was uttered with strain, laced with effort._

"_Because you're probably- no, you're almost definitely the only one who can."_

"_**Shouldn't you be… nicer, then?**__" Pausing by the other man in the pool of blood, the man took two swords from the ground and secured them to a loop on his waist._

_Reversing direction, the entity didn't slow down, bringing parts of its form into contact with the armor; immediately, warning alarms went off as the spasms returned, followed by showers of unstable mana sparks from the most damaged exposed areas of the metal._

"_Nicer? I've been in a stone coffin for _years_; I stopped counting after two _hundred_, and that was _long_ ago. I was trapped with several items, and those with personalities had their sentience driven insane until it vanished entirely because of the small area. Several hundred years I waited, as mighty magical items were decimated by the mere auras of one another. It was slow torture for them, which I had to listen to _for the entire duration_. After that, I had to coexist with the shells of once grand items, watch while my own body rotted, trapped in a cell that was lined with a substance to contain any kind of energy, magical or otherwise. Recently, some shock sent a portion of the rock crashing into the tomb, cracking the bars of the cell. But it was like only a small chunk had been taken away from those metaphorical bars; I've been slowly, _slowly_ oozing out of that prison for years, the lingering madness of the others pressing from behind. Today, the door was thrown wide open by you and a colleague, freeing me at last. Now, I find you're my best chance of returning this once mighty structure to where it belongs, and to be perfectly frank, you are one aggravatingly small chance. I feel that my impatience is a _little_ bit justified in this case."_

_Moving away from the man, the entity fumed. With the end of direct contact, the armor stopped twitching, no longer being driven haywire by the touch of the entity with the decimated portions._

_Though, there was also a positive effect of going haywire; with health regeneration being the only thing actively operating, it was fed the overflow that came from the entity, speeding the process greatly. While the man needed a few seconds to recover from being jerked around by his gear while being ranted at, he was better off than he would have been otherwise._

_Looking in the vague direction of the stairway into the island, the entity took a wild guess at the rate of which things would be accomplished, given the condition of the man who could make physical contact with the world._

_It wasn't a particularly pleasing estimation, though at least the being was used to waiting._

_Behind the concentration of mana with a mind, an armored man rose to his feet with considerably less groaning than the previous instances._

"_Follow. I really, _really_ want to get rid of this lingering duty crap so I can finish dying."_

"_**What are you? Or what were you?**__"_

_Floating forward at a rapid hover, it decided to indulge the question- it had been a long time since the entity had spoken to anything; the slight conversation was nostalgic. "I'm what some would call a kind of ghost. I am- I mean, _was_, an… aide, to the former Master of this 'island'."_

"_**It said, on the coffin… you are- were-**__"_

"_Wife of the Leader of the Black Horde; the Leaderess." Slowing down slightly so the man could close the distance, the spirit glanced over one shoulder. "Despite that rank and my demands to the contrary, the Mins stuck me in the tomb. Isn't it annoying how the little buggers can be extremely dense?"_

* * *

Stroking his chin, Gnarl suggested something else: "Maybe, try bribing it?"

With a nod, the Forge Master knelt beside the edge of the Tower Heart pool. "Heart! Heart! If you work, we give you nice sheepie-"

"The Heart won't want a sheep, you dolt!"

"-Nice cookies! And cake if Heart is really good!" Scanning the depths hopefully, both Minions saw no change. "We also give nice calendar! Have Mistress and servants! In _swimsuits!_"

Still no change; the elderly Minion heaved a sigh of temporary defeat. "Well, Giblet, we should probably take a break anyway. Maybe it needs to, I don't know, rest."

"Can Giblet have Heart's cookies?"

"When you get the thing working. _If_, you can get the thing working."

* * *

Meeting back at the grassy deck, the chef and swordsman both wore expressions of a nature not particularly indicating good news.

Sanji asked the question first: "Any luck?"

"All sleeping like bricks, won't even stir. You?"

"Same."

The two men breathed soft sighs and looked to the horizon- the sun was almost halfway down, and the island's sheer cliffs continued to defy the waves that pushed against it.

* * *

Upon that island, in a pool of blood and with the stench of scorched human flesh filling his head, Marine Captain Vonvarr's finger twitched.

* * *

(A/N)

The last line was originally "-Marine Captain Vonvarr groaned", but I couldn't resist using this instead. Some probably won't understand that, so just Google "finger twitching revival".

… I am _so_ going to make a genre savvy villain who cuts the fingers and toes off his downed enemies. But not in this story. Probably.

THIS CHAPTER WAS ABSOLUTELY AND DEFINITELY NOT LATE AT ALL WHATSOEVER IN ANY WAY. But, if it was (which it isn't), then I'd be able supply a few perfectly valid reasons why it (hypothetically) would have been late (which it isn't). If it was rushed, however (which it was), then it probably could use another proofread or two (likely). But, if it was behind schedule (which it isn't), I may not have wanted to wait that long (which I didn't).

(End A/N)


	12. Daisies and Muffled Fright and Puppies

(A/N)

If any of you noticed that chapter eleven was slightly darker than pretty much everything before it, prepare… for some WHIPLASH!

(End A/N)

* * *

Letting out a sigh of content, Gnarl cheerily set his teacup on the table. Across from him sat Giblet, who was tentatively sipping from his own cup's steamy tongue-scalding contents.

"Isn't it positively _wonderful_ to enjoy some nice, hot tea after a long day of effort, Giblet?" Slightly worn from the long trek down the stairs to the ever-warm Spawning Pits, the elderly Minion's slightly sweaty skin glistened in the bright candlelight.

"Ow! Yes, relaxing! Ai!"

One of the servants walked through the door with a wide smile, carrying a tray of baked goods and a steaming teapot. As she set about refilling Gnarl's cup, he continued to marvel. "Muffins! Mm, positively _scrumptious_ muffins! You've outdone yourself this time, eh… Maid #5!"

"#3, Gnarl, sir!" Cheerily correcting him, the woman beamed and left the room.

"Shame to my old bones; I can't get the maids straight! I must be growing senile in my old Evil days!" With a grin, Gnarl ate another piece of the muffin. "Not enough to retire, though! Say, Giblet, any ideas on how to get the Tower Heart working like a little girl promised she'd get a pony if she tended the pumpkin patch?"

"Methods escape me, Heart confusing." Managing to consume a muffin without sending crumbs everywhere while speaking, Giblet responded with a similarly gleeful tone. "Where Quaver? Maybe he have idea!"

"Oh, that rascally ol' troublemaker? I've had him in a large hamster wheel connected to the Tower Heart ever since he made that crack about my ears! Of course, I neglected to mention when he could stop running! Oh ho ho ho ho!"

"Ah ha ha ha- _ow hot hot_!"

"Do be careful, young Giblet!" Jolly, the old Minion leaned back in his chair. "Things would be a lot easier if trinkets such as giant hamster wheels helped power the Tower Heart, eh? Almost make it _too_ easy!"

"Giblet fine with easy!"

"Aha, but in order to be Evil, we must allow Good to have a chance, so there's something to compare us against to make us seem as Evil as we really are! If we were too powerful and vanquished _all_ Good, we wouldn't be Evil by comparison! Such a funny thing, oh ho- …"

"Ah ha ha- something wrong?"

"It… just… _why in the blazes are we laughing?_ We're Evil Minions, not pansy royalty on a balcony! Get these, these _sparkles_ away from me!" Aggravated, the old Minion swatted at the seemingly ambient pink-and-yellow motes of light that had been surrounding his head. "_Who has been tampering with the bloody Happy Ball!_"

* * *

_Instead of the usual obscenities, the Marine instructor called out: "Straighten those backs, men! Sweat like you mean it! Get that decking back together before noon, and maybe the captain will let you out on the town!"_

_The instructor's superior couldn't help but smile; the bright, cheery morning's contagious happiness had spread throughout the men, even the laziest of the slackers working to repair the damage inflicted by pirates._

_Adjusting the course slightly, Vonvarr himself was affected by the morning glee; he hadn't felt so refreshed for some time. Though, it was slightly strange; for some reason, his body felt sluggish, as though it was carrying the burden of recovering from some extreme damage._

_While he was thinking, one of his Sergeants clapped him on the back. "Don' look so thoughtful, sir! Enjoy the mornin' like any ol' pal, it'a do your body some good!"_

_His worries cast aside, Vonvarr grinned and shrugged off his coat as he grabbed a pint of grog from a tray that was being carried by. Smoothly, the scene changed from the ship in a bay to a pleasant pub, filled with wide grins and massive… laughter on the serving women._

* * *

_A dark, dark place; she felt weak and without any strength, mental or physical. She'd not felt this bad for many, many years and the mere return of the helplessness was almost as terrifying the feeling itself._

_Curling into an even smaller ball, she floated in a sea of images, ever-changing and ever-horrifying, and each time she caught a glimpse of one her mind felt like it was under a great pressure and her lungs struggled to bring in air._

_Though the horror was declining on average, it spiked whenever she saw an image; she couldn't close her eyes, as they were frozen open to stare t nothing and everything as the images of a pure power, untouchable yet moldable, floated aimlessly around her._

_Images, she knew for some reason, which were directly related to, if not images of, the force that came with the man who fell from the sky._

* * *

"It's been getting worse, huh?"

Grimly nodding, the chef looked at the archaeologist. Though she'd been mostly inanimate, Robin had gradually become more active while unconscious; from the murmuring before Sanji had gone after Steve, now to heavy breathing laced with an occasional unintelligible exclamation.

Contemplative, the swordsman on the opposite side of the bed crossed his arms. "Wouldn't think she'd to be the type to have nightmares like this."

"She's _not_ the type to have nightmares like this! It's all that man's fault, wracking her illustrious mind and beautiful body with his magic and wavy aura-presence thing!"

"If she was close to the source of that pulse… I certainly don't envy her." Reaching a conclusion, Zoro nodded and began walking out of the room.

"What are you going to do?"

"Going to try waking everyone else again."

"But that didn't work a few minutes ago, how would it be different _now_?"

"Because _this_ time," he said with a smile and raising of a clenched fist, "I'll be much less nice about it."

* * *

Not-so-silently clonking, the Giant Slayer thought to himself about his predicament. He'd nearly been killed, which was bad. He'd been kept alive, which is good. He was following a spirit-like being down a pitch black stairway that lead into the main area of the island which he had just left not long before, which was… less than ideal, but not exactly _bad_. He had remembered to remove his helmet before going down the stairs, which was good. His armor still twitched of its own accord every few minutes, which would potentially be very, very bad if he was knocked off balance and down the steps.

In fact, just as the thought crossed his mind, the damaged portion over his abdomen seized and sent him sprawling down the stairs. Thankfully for Steve, the Leaderess seemed to have retained some reflexes and moved out of his way as he rolled by, preventing a burst of heavy spasms to accompany his passing.

Far too many moments later, the Most Overconfident Master's helmet rolled down the steps and bumped against his skull, which was attached to a body that once again had to undergo the Health Regeneration system trying to mend minor internal fractures.

"_Was that an attempt to try and improve my conception of you? If so, then… I'd give you a three. Out of ten. And that's only because you managed a neat spin after-_"

"**That… was **_**not…**_** intentional!**"

"_Oh? Even that airborne bit right before you bounced off the top of the stairwell?_"

Waiting for the spasms to stop completely, the current Overlord put his helmet back on ignored the dead woman, instead looking around the room. Though the light coming through the roof had dwindled since he left, there was still plenty to see with, and he could see that the room was just as vast as before, fading to shadow wherever he looked.

"_Now that we're here, I've just _got_ to know: why is there a damned hole in my roof?_"

"**Forgot… to ask…**" Clenching his teeth, the Wench Bane pushed himself off the ground and rose to his feet, staggering for a step before regaining his full balance. "**Which way?**"

"_Follow. You'd better fix that hole later._" Following the wall, the entity turned right from the stairway and hovered away at a semi-rapid pace.

With a grunt, the Duke of Domination followed with a slight limp.

* * *

_Grins a plenty, the crew of the _Bucket _started their third consecutive drinking contest, this time between the champions from each Squad. The winner would then go against Sergeant 'B', who had held the crew's position of Best Liquor Holder for over three years._

_Having been eliminated pretty early on, Vonvarr reclined on a chair with his men, egging on his most durable subordinates as they downed stein after mug, bucket after pitcher. Although the best cheer he managed was probably a slurred holler, he still tried._

* * *

Sergeant Baldrick, Vonvarr's most trusted subordinate and second-in-command, rubbed his pained jaw as he listened to the rest of the men rising from the deck of the _Bucket_. Turning to survey the bruised and broken bunch, the sergeant had decided what was to be done. "All right, _men!_"

Still moaning in agony, the heads of the Marines turned to the leader of Second Squad, who grimaced.

"We're obviously extremely outmatched! Therefore, I'm declaring this to be a special circumstance assignment from here on! Yes, Jackson, that means we get _those_ out. Make sure everybody gets one, and that they perform any maintenance necessary! Roland, get to the helm and get us back to that ship, pronto! Oxburg, ready the _specialty_ rounds for the cannons, just in case." With orders delivered and received, the crew staggered about completing their tasks. Near the stern, Baldrick winced and put a hand back over his sore jaw and contemplated the various plans Vonvarr had drilled into him.

* * *

Snarling at his own laziness, the Marine captain violently shoved himself off the ground, clutching at his head with one hand. He felt like he'd been thrown off a balcony, only if the ground below that balcony was covered in swords and hammers of every shape and size, and he'd been blasted downwards from the balcony by a cannon. And he'd been stabbed beforehand. Right after half his bones were broken. But not before his beautiful suit was pummeled to shreds by angry boxers with stone gloves.

Unsteadily raising himself back to his feet, Vonvarr checked his wounds- everything was sore, but the bleeding had seemingly stopped- which was by itself something abnormal, since Vonvarr was certain he would have bled to death- yet there he was, gasping in pain and not complaining that he was still alive.

Though he was slightly weak from the blood loss, it wasn't as bad as it should have been. Looking towards the sun, his mouth split in a grin- not much time had passed, but the 'Steve' guy was already gone. Both weapons also; he had probably taken them.

Finally getting around to looking around the area, his morale sank immediately; all of First Squad, except for himself and one other, was burned beyond recognition. Even the guns they once held were warped, presumably from the same heat that caused the giant charred circle they were strewn around.

The other Marine was collapsed a few feet from where Vonvarr had been. He recognized him, as he made a point of knowing all his subordinates: Seaman Wilbert, one of the relatively newer recruits. Prioritizing the still-breathing Wilbert over the burnt remains of First Squad, the captain knelt at his man's side.

His grief only increased as he saw that Wilbert's face was not of a sane person, maybe not even the face of a man with any mind at all. His eyes were rolled back, and were watering; his mouth agape, with small choking noises as his possibly damaged brain tried to keep the body alive in vain. The occasional twitch racked the man's body, and he still clutched tightly to his bayoneted rifle.

Feeling very, _very_ vengeful, Captain Vonvarr gently pried the rifle from his beyond gone comrade, as well as its spare ammunition. He felt like venting frustration, and he knew _just_ the person to do so on, as he looked at his fallen men before following the bloodstained footsteps of a man in armor.

* * *

"**What… is this?**"

"_Part of a plan,_" Levitating in front of a depression in the wall, the entity traced the carvings in the stone with one hand. "_You read at least some of the _Records_, didn't you?_"

"**Yes, though I don't recall them mention-**"

"_They would not. He wasn't aware of this; the plan was devised between the most senior advisers and I while the Leader was out being a menace to society. I'm not sure if he knew or not, but the… this island was sinking into the ocean._"

"**I… remember something about a receding beach.**"

"_That was only a small, obvious part. Though it seemed to have landed on a shallow part of the ocean, the land was still soil; it absorbed water, slowly took on more weight and slowly the bottom crumbled. Before I was sealed into the sarcophagus, there was still quite a fair amount of land between the shoreline and everything else._"

"**But now?**"

"_After I got _out_ of the sarcophagus, I immediately descended. This structure… before, there might have been a way to preserve it. Seal the dungeons, something. Now, I'm glad to see that Knot managed to finish this emergency plan._"

"… **Eh?**"

"_You'll find out later. For now, I'll instruct you in a way you'll understand: Put. Magic. In. Hole._" After a moment of thought, "_Twit._"

Grumbling, Steve did as he was told. Reacting to the mana, the carvings glowed brightly and the light spread along the walls, illuminating a section of it.

A tone of relief entered the entity's previously emotionless voice. "_Splendid… very good, we have several dozen more to do._"

"**Several-****I don't have enough mana for that!**"

"_Man up, Princess. Several dozen more to go._"

* * *

"I take it there wasn't much luck."

In response, the swordsman showed the knuckles of one hand; they looked as though he'd been punching something metallic. "Franky is sleeping very heavily, and doesn't take kindly to rude awakenings. In fact, I think he was still asleep when he shot at me. Nobody else even got that far."

"Crap. So, what'll we do in the mean time?"

A glance at the bed showed that Robin had not improved a great deal. Facing the chef, Zoro answered. "I've been doing some thinking. You?"

"Of course."

"If Steve's magic is what caused this, then there are two possible things that might help. Staying far away from magic, or finding Steve and seeing if he knows any way to help her."

"Right. But if we go back to the island, we'll be bringing everyone back into contact with the magic-"

"-Which may make it even worse. So, I've come up with two possible solutions."

"Two solutions? Best I've got is that one of us stays with the crew while the other returns to the island to find that armored bastard."

"That's my first choice. My second, and far less preferable, is that I knock you unconscious and take the entire ship back to the island." Not pausing for an angered retort from Sanji, Zoro continued. "I'd prefer option A, you're too stubborn to stay down. Now, I can't decide on who stays here and who goes back."

Frowning, Sanji looked to the ceiling; even _he_ didn't feel like putting the challenge into an insult. "Well, you can't go because you'd get lost."

"You can't go, because you're harboring a grudge against the guy that might be able to help, and would probably lose control when you saw him. And you certainly can't stay aboard because, quite frankly, I'm not entirely sure you can be trusted alone with these two while they're unconscious."

"_Are you insinuating that I would-_"

A sheathed blade found itself bearing the weight of the swordsman's hand. "We don't have time for that. We should get the boat close enough to the island that it's an easy jump across."

Gritting his teeth, Sanji glared at the swordsman. "_Fine_. But why are you giving orders all of a sudden?"

"With Luffy out, I have seniority."

"That's a load of-"

"_And,_ we'd never be able to live it down or live with _ourselves_ if some kind of permanent damage occurred to her," he gestured towards the sleeping woman, "or any other member of the crew."

The chef also knew he wouldn't live down admitting defeat to Zoro, but he didn't have much else in the way of choice.

"Also, you're coming with me on the island."

"What? Why?"

"Like I said, you probably couldn't be trusted alone with these two."

"_You son of a-_"

"Greater good. Remember, greater good."

Growling, Sanji took several deep breaths. "Greater good. Okay, fine. For the ladies. All right."

"… Curlef."

"Curlef? Curl… ef, che- _you lookin' for a fight?_"

* * *

Slamming to the ground with a roll, Vonvarr's legs immediately declared war against his mind and began an attrition of agony. Unable to stand for several minutes, he seriously reconsidered his decision to take the short way by jumping down a hole in the ground.

Once he _was_ able to stagger back to his feet, he still had no idea of where to go; despite having guarded the island for a majority of his time as a Marine, he'd never been inside. Nobody had managed to find a safe way to get in that didn't have a chance of damaging its potential contents, and as a consequence the Marines had no idea of what said contents may be.

Whatever they were expecting, a vast and empty chamber certainly wasn't on Vonvarr's list. He'd been guessing it held something more along the lines of glittering mounds of treasure, not dust and rodent feces.

Taking Wilbert's rifle back in hand, he closed his eyes and concentrated heavily on sound. It took several moments, but he could hear the distinct noise of bent and damaged metal plates scraping against one another.

Remembering those who had been roasted alive and the one who had had his mind torn asunder, the captain tightened his grip on the rifle and half-staggered, half-limped towards where he thought the scraping emanated from.

* * *

Alongside Quaver in the Wheel Room now ran two of the servants and a Red, as well as a Green thrown in to make everybody else's day worse while it sweated, courtesy of Gnarl and his irritation at the two humans and Minion who had been directly responsible for dropping the Happy Ball. Unfortunately, however, said Happy Ball's activation mechanism was slightly damaged from the fall, and its effects were wearing off… rather slowly.

"Miss #6, I would kindly like ano- _agh!_ #6! Get me another damned muffin! And a sheep! And a club to hit the damned sheep with! And if you would be so kind, could you bring me one of those positively _delightful_ cups- GAH!"

* * *

(A/N)

It was _way_ too much fun writing that first part. And yes, this was released two weeks early; I'm sure none of you are terribly riled about that. Thirteen will still be updated at the beginning of March, provided I can blast through it like I did this one.

Arse-Pullatorium- I MEAN ANSWERS TO THINGS THAT YOU MAY HAVE WONDERED ABOUT

Q: Dude… do you, like, hate Robin and Steve?

A: Actually, Robin is one of my favorite characters. Steve? He's the protagonist, practically obligated by contract to always have a bad day.

Q: Everything else?

A: MAGIC.

(End A/N)


	13. Captain Killjoy

(A/N)

My hopes are that this will get finished by or before the year mark. It'll be iffy, especially since I originally thought this would only get _maybe_ six chapters; look how well _that_ turned out…

P.S. No, I'm not sure if it's Juju or JuJu.

(End A/N)

* * *

"**It's… a bit dark in here."**

"_It is, isn't it? I hadn't noticed, since I don't have to bother noticing solid objects._"

"**That's right, rub it in**." Steve bonked his shoulder against another column. "**Are there torches, or **_**anything**_** to give off light?**"

"_Yes, in fact you're walking past a shelf of lanterns right now._"

"**…****.**"

* * *

Silent as shadow, the man crept. The darkness hindered him not, for his job was largely uneventful and allowed for him to train all his senses. Operating solely on the movement of air and the feel of stone against his fingers, Vonvarr crept forward, rapidly gaining on the source of scraping metals.

That is, until he hit his foot against a boulder. Then, he concentrated on _not_ paying attention to the particular sense stemming from a stubbed toe.

Limping onward, the Marine kept to his duty; he was obligated by job and revenge to stop any user of JuJu, and the Leader of the Minion Army was a definite JuJuer.

But, then he stubbed his other toe and all the thoughts of responsibility faded as he clutched his foot.

* * *

Crying silently, Sanji's tears glistened against the late afternoon sun. His woes traced their most recent source back to when he was forced to agree with the swordsman on who would watch over the -_beautiful_- Robin, and who would be in charge of getting the ship back to the island.

Silently cursing the green-headed man and his poor sense of direction, the chef spun the ship to starboard and towards the one who was farther back in the line of his sources of woe.

Meanwhile, as the chef cried manly tears and the ship sailed back towards the direction from whence it came, the resident swordsman did some weightlifting to pass the time.

Not in his gym, though. Sanji had made him agree to stay by the side of the archaeologist, and Zoro couldn't even fit his weights through the door into the girls' quarters. So, he had to improvise slightly.

Alternating which arm lifted the navigator's bed, he half-watched Robin as he lifted. The woman was definitely becoming more mobile, but her sleep was simultaneously becoming less deep; she'd gradually been moving from exclamations to an occasional full muffled word while her breathing became less regular with each passing moment.

As he was about to hit the two hundred mark, one of Zoro's wounds started a new campaign of pain. His efforts to remain upright were in vain, as he found himself unable to retain a reign over the inhumane drain of strength.

He found himself staggering towards the other bed. Abruptly, it dawned on him that the leg of the navigator's bed was about to impale the archaeologist through the neck, which would be less than beneficial- using the last of his strength, he yanked the bed away from the older woman.

Unfortunately for him, this meant that he was even more weakened and directly under a heavy bed frame. After a loud _thud_, Zoro found himself more exhausted and gasping for air, stuck under a bed which was still occupied.

Not only that, _Shusui_ was poking him in the ribs.

Meanwhile, the chef resisted the powerful urge to check what the noise was.

* * *

"_This will be the seventh._"

"**I'd prefer you didn't remind me of the number each time.**" Channeling the bare minimum into the depression, Steve calculated again- even the absolute least amount of mana required for each marker was a sizeable chunk of what his armor could store. His rough estimates placed him at around fifteen total that he could activate, barring any issues with the armor reducing his reserve.

"_It's mostly for my own benefit, I can't exactly remember how many sigils would have been needed for this. It was either fifty-eight, or ninety-three._"

"**Not that I'll be able to manage that many, but what's the difference?**"

"_Ninety-three if Knot opted for the entire chunk of land, fifty-eight for the structure alone._"

"**Land… wouldn't the symbols for the land be **_**outside**_** the structure?**"

"_I'm guessing you can't swim very well, so I myself am hoping that there are only fifty-eight._"

"**What fun.**" As Steve was taking a wide a step over a crack in the old and worn floor, the tear in the abdomen section of his armor pressed against the accompanying wound. Grimacing, he walked on. "**I probably can't manage more than-**"

"_Slightly over a dozen, I've guessed. There should be something this way that will help, but it will depend on what Knot's actions._"

"**Ah. Just to pass the time, do you know what happened to the old Minions?**"

"_The Mins? They probably drowned themselves by accident. No, seriously. They would always fall into the water if the Leader or I didn't keep ordering them not to try fishing unsupervised. If not that, then they likely just died off in the Breeding Depths._"

"**Oh? Bummer. Might have been a good addition to my horde.**"

"_You don't have your own Mins with you? I've not seen them._"

"**Only I was able to use the gem, but my advisor has been communicating occasionally.**"

"_Really? How?_"

Stepping around another gouge the entity hovered over, the Overlord kept pace. "**A connection between made the core magical power of the Tower and my helmet.**"

For a few moments the dead woman was quiet and contemplative, but then spoke again. "_Your Tower, could you describe it?_"

"**Eh. Big. Tall. Imposing. Spiky. Tall. Imposing. Sturdy. Attracts heroes like a princess in distress.**"

"_Core magical power… big orb? Silvery, maybe?_"

"**Yes, how-**"

"_Probably stays in a pool most of the time?_"

"**Yes, but how do you know-**"

Stopping by another mark on the wall, the entity spoke while gesturing at it. "_The Fortress had thirty of them_."

In response, the lantern crashed to the floor as its previous holder's thought process crashed at the thought of the sheer power the mere concept carried with it. The oil spread from the broken orb that had held it, and a low fire spread across the floor slowly.

"_Smart. So, how are you going to see now?_"

* * *

Seeing the distant light ahead, Vonvarr increased his speed at the cost of paying attention to the floor- and it cost him splendidly. After stepping on air, he descended until a soft _kunk_ and some pain registered to his senses.

And then, the stock of Wilbert's rifle landed on his groin. Before that pain could fade, the barrel tipped and whacked him on the face.

* * *

"_Here's another._"

"**Already?**"

"_Yes; we are almost to the end of this wall, with maybe twelve total in this room. The rest of the sigils on the lower levels should be easier._"

Activating the carvings, the Amasser of Armies continued to follow the wavering form. Fortunately, it got slightly more visible in the dark- simultaneously unfortunate for anyone less stoic than the Overlord, because the shivering and squiggly form would scare the pants off many a persons under a wide range of circumstances.

"**I'll need a replenishment of-**"

"_I've got it covered, you should only have to be in the red for one activation_."

In response, a slightly irritated grunt resonated.

"_At least I'm taking your well-being _somewhat_ into consideration. Be glad, lesser Master._"

"**Oh, just look at me tripping over myself in gratitude.**" Accelerating past the entity, the Overlord briskly moved; the constant berating was wearing farther and farther into his nerves.

"_Your sarcastic tone is noted, approved, and resented all at the same time._" If it had a mouth, a half-smile would have spread on the partially formless remnant of the dead Leaderess.

* * *

Glancing over the side of the shipr, the chef frowned; there were odd ripples on the surface that formed what looked to be a distantly spaced circle of points around the island, which sat mere minutes away from the _Sunny_'s current location.

As he was looking backward at a ripple the ship had passed, Sanji noticed that the Marine caravel had turned around and was in pursuit. Though the _Sunny_ had a head start and an already established speed, the other vessel was barely closing the distance.

That is, until the chef saw that there were oars being extended from the sides and what may have been large cannons on their stern being pointed backwards and prepared to fire.

Furrowing his eyebrow, the chef tried to figure out if physics worked that way- though it took secondary priority to estimating whether or not the gunfire would interrupt the sleep of the -_gorgeous-_ madams in their quarters.

* * *

_Mounds and mounds of treasure spread in all directions, glistening beautifully against the distant background of vast mountains of gold. Releasing yet another cry of delight, the navigator once more swept piles of gold coins over her body._

_Flinging those piles to and fro with a joyous leap to her feet, she then went wading through the fields of golden daisies, ending with an ecstatic plunge into water bearing large quantities of gold flakes._

_Emerging at the other end of the flaked lake, Nami dried herself off using a mink, cashmere, and velvet towel. Handing the glittering cloth to her former Queen servant, the young navigator once more grinned widely and dove onto another great mound of gold and jewels._

_This time the impact was far more jarring, however; much to her dismay, the great expanses of wealth faded, the edges blurring and the colors darkening gradually…_

Drooling slightly, Nami opened her eyes; somehow, it seemed she had gotten to her bed and was not in fact living on a great field of gold and jewelry. Instead, she bore witness to the green-haired swordsman standing directly next to her bed and breathing heavily, not to mention sweating as though he had been doing something arduous.

Her reflexes kicked in, having her lash and cry out in surprise. Caught off guard, Zoro was flung backwards several feet, landing on his face with his back in pain.

With the seemingly imminent danger launched, Nami did an emergency check- fortunately neither her hair nor clothing had been mussed terribly, so all she had to do was adjust her shirt before the door slammed open.

True to the his average, it had taken the chef roughly seconds to open the door; the navigator had done tests a few weeks before, leaving Sanji's record clocked at one point eight nine seconds from a scream to the door being thrown open.

"_Whatever is the matter, my dear sweet_?"

"Why is he in here?", aforementioned dear sweet demanded while pointing at the swordsman.

"Worry not, my lady! He was only supposed to have been watching over Madame Robin, though the _green-headed bastard seems to have gone and interrupted your undoubtedly wondrous rest_!"

Rubbing his bruised lower back, the swordsman glared at one person and scowled at the other. "This isn't my fault, you blond lech! I was just standing next to her bed when she hit me for no apparent reason!"

"You were standing over me while I was asleep! And breathing heavily!" It suddenly occurred to Nami that something was slightly off. Glancing around the room, she figured it out: "And why is my bed in the middle of the room?"

Grimacing, the swordsman responded with a shrug. "Just standing here was boring, so I wanted to get some exercise while I waited. Your bed is one of the heaviest thi-"

A hand on the shoulder spun Zoro 'round, allowing Sanji to grab him by the collar. "_Are you suggesting that the flawless figure of the lovely Nami is 'heavy'_?"

The chef's own collar found itself clenched by a fist. "No, the frame of the bed is heavy-duty! You're the one that jumped to that conclusion, you moron- and why aren't you at the helm?"

"The safety of-"

Shifting unstably off her bed and to her feet, the navigator interjected: "The helm? Why would someone need to be- are we moving?"

Both replied simultaneously with "Yeah, back towards the island."

"'Back towards'? We were away fr… you mean the one that sticks out of the ocean, right?"

Sanji nodded; "Certainly, my swe-"

"The one with every side jagged."

"Yes, woman, why do you-"

"_And we're headed directly at it_."

Though it took a second, comprehension dawned on their faces. Before they could react to their realization, however, the starboard bow of the _Sunny_ crashed against the rock and sent the three of them off their feet while the splintering sound of stone against wood filled the air.

* * *

_"Here's the last sigil before you can replenish your mana."_

Not wanting to channel magic from his armor's operational requirements, Steve uncertainly looked at the sigil that he could only barely make out from the rest of the wall. "**Can't you give me a little magic, like you did when you reactivated the armor?**"

_"Hell no. I'm composed nigh entirely of magic, refilling you directly runs the risk of me dissipating. The one time before was an exception only because you were leaning over the edge of death."_

"**Then, can't I come back to this one after my mana is replenished?**"

_"No, it'll be easier to keep track of otherwise. Besides, man up, Princess."_

Reluctantly, the Overlord placed his hand in the sigil's depression. Hesitantly, he used the bare dregs he had in the casting reservoir and went into the mana that the armor operated on.

Closing his eyes as the flashing crystal light indicators glared and the shrill sirens of warning blared, Steve endeavored. Once he'd channeled roughly enough to activate the sigil, he cut off the flow and waited for the alarms to stop and the spasms to lax

Ears ringing, he straightened himself, leaning against the wall with his hand still in the depression. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Steve nodded to the entity.

_"Done? Good. Door to replenishment is right here."_

"**Right the- ****_next to the sigil_?**"

_"Yes. Quit the glare, I'm doing you a favor by toughening your squishy arse."_

"**Agh.**" Steve raised his helmet momentarily to pinch the bridge of his nose."**There's magic beyond that door? The only place I detected it earlier was at the bedroom, yet this is a different door.**"

_"Yes, and it's because of Jujuseal©. Knot said he'd use it on the tomb and any other chamber containing magic in order to block the Marines from finding the items if they managed to develop anything to track their aura."_

"... **What is a '**©**'?**"

If it had lips, the former Leaderess would have pursed them in thought. _"I… am not entirely sure, myself. I think Knot said something about it 'getting big one day', and that he'd secured 'the first one ever of itself', or something along those lines. It's irrelevant, I'm sure."_

"**Okay, then… how do I open this door? A key? Solving puzzles? Completing word games? Reciting a large quantity of jokes purely based off puns? Standing in front of it and flexing? Finding a virgin and spilling their blood across-**"

_"No, no, nothing that extravagant."_

"… **Maybe a virgin-**"

_"No, it doesn't require virgins! Where did you get that idea?"_

"**I read somewhere that a good virgin can do a great many things, and I thought that maybe the older types of magic would have a situation where that applies.**"

_"Oh. They can do many things, but not here: this door opens on tracks. Go ahead, push it."_

"… **Sounds secure.**"

_"Effective against people like you expecting something complicated, isn't it?"_

"**Fair point.**" Steve shoved the door with as much force as he could, and after a moment it scooted a foot inward before stopping. Though he continued pushing, it wouldn't budge. "**What now? It stopped.**"

_"It's also a sort of sliding door; you now have to move it to the left."_

"… **First I have to make a door explode, then use mana to open another...**" Doing as he was told, the Overlord endeavored to slide the large block of stone out of the way. With each small increment he managed, the ambience of magic increased exponentially, and a light from the crack grew more visible.

* * *

Squinting at the rapidly growing bar of light that was almost blindingly brighter than everything else, the captain moved onward with an air of determination, his only weapon clutched tightly as his skull throbbed in two places and everything else hurt at least a little bit.

Very vaguely, he began to distinguish the shape of a person against the bar of light. Shifting the rifle to a more prepared position, the shine of the improvised bayonet's smooth edge gleamed ever so barely as its wielder stealthily charged on.

* * *

"_My beautaciously magnifiwonderful Namillustrious_!"

Adding a possibly ruptured eardrum to his list of pains, the swordsman hauled himself back to his feet using the wall he'd rolled against. Across the room, Sanji cradled the navigator who had already been woozy and unstable before she'd hit her head on the floor.

Leaving the panicked chef where he knelt, Zoro stumbled out of the room and onto the deck. The sails, still fully lowered, continued to catch the wind and drive them farther from the island that they had crashed against.

Moving to the side of impact, the swordsman leaned over the railing to see the damage. The entire starboard half of the bow was covered in gouges, though none seemed to fully penetrate the hull.

He'd figured out that the island's rock was unusually durable when he'd cut a hole through it, but Zoro hadn't thought it strong enough to damage Franky's prized Adam Wood. Looking towards the stern, he saw that a portion of the cliff face bore traces of red and white paint, and that the Marine caravel was following the _Sunny_.

The other ship was gaining rapidly, and looked like it planned to move faster if the two cannons on its stern were any indication. Changing his concentration to the matters at hand, the Straw Hat crew's swordsman moved to raise the sails and slow the ship down before it rammed something else.

* * *

"Sergeant, the cannons are prepared and loaded with the specialty rounds!"

Acknowledging the report with a nod, Baldrick looked to the crow's nest and saw that the Marine snipers were in position and armed. Withdrawing his twin long pistols, the sergeant raised one in the air and yelled out: "_Second squad_! Prepare for high-risk combat! Engineers, fire the propulsory cannons on my mark!" Shifting his stance low to counter the force of the imminent blast, the sergeant could only hope that he wouldn't wreck the captain's ship by accidentally ramming the pirates. "_MARK_!"

Rocketing forward, the _Bucket_ did not quite go airborne; rather, plumes of water twice as high as the ship itself spread to both port and starboard, and the waterline rose slightly on the prow and fell equally at the stern as the ship's rear rose out of the water several feet.

Atop the stern deck, the engineers tried in vain to prevent their eardrums from evaporating as the unusually large cannons cracked lengthwise, fire billowing from places it really had no business doing so.

* * *

Steve got a warm, tingly feeling.

To be more precise, he got two warm tingly feelings in quick succession. The first after he saw the seventy foot wide silvery waters of a pool, which contained many active magic orbs that were each several times larger than his own Tower Heart, and around three sides of said pool were piles of treasure and the unmistakable glow of magic surrounding more than a few items.

The second warm and tingly feeling came after a loud noise and about two seconds before Steve fell to one knee again, another second or so before he looked down and saw that his stomach was bleeding profusely, _again_, from a _new_ hole in his Arcanium armor. Another second passed before it occurred to him that being shot clear through the gut wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling.

Clutching his new wound, the Impenetrable One turned as best he could back towards the cavernous depths of the massive room, spreading the splatter of blood into an almost artful arc.

Clutching his rifle with a smoking muzzle, Captain Vonvarr walked forward out of the shadows.

* * *

(A/N)

Either the _Bucket_ has some scary-arse cannonballs, or I just threw physics even farther the window than One Piece already had.

…

MAGIC!

P.S. No, Steve did not get shot in the chest. He got shot _through_ the chest.

(A/N)


	14. Level Two Smoke Signal

(A/N)

There was a story 'bout how his line got flip-turned upside down; you may take a minute, just sit right there, and listen to an abridged history of how 'magic' is laughed at in the Marines.

(End A/N)

* * *

The caravel barely survived the impact.

It wasn't a straight-on crashing blow, either; the _Bucket_ was able to turn slightly so that its starboard crashed against the pirate ship's port side. Nevertheless, the caravel had seen better days and began taking on water almost immediately after collision.

Meanwhile, a certain swordsman returned to his feet as several Marines leaped onto the side of the _Sunny_ to ascend to the lower decks. Pulling two of his three swords from their scabbards, the Straw Hat swordsman rapidly descended to the grass-covered deck as one Marine yelled commands to his subordinates.

* * *

Baldrick grit his teeth unhappily; though the other fellow, the one who had swum over earlier, was nowhere to be seen, a different pirate now stood ready to fight- and he held swords, which were much more likely to leave a Marine unable to return to his feet.

The sergeant decided to change tactics slightly, and gave the riflemen orders to fire at will.

It bought time splendidly; as the swordsman pirate was busy defending and taking cover, Baldrick gave the order for the snipers to also fire at will and motioned towards the rest of the Squad to get the boarding gear in place.

* * *

When the _Sunny_ had been rammed, Sanji had reacted as fast as he could to protect the navigator from any rolling or airborne objects; when the gunfire and yelling started, he pulled her to relative safety behind some solid objects.

When he heard the sound of someone yelling, "_He's hit, get around him quick!_" the chef was in the process of moving Robin to where she would also be protected. The outcry only gave him pause for a short moment before he accelerated his pace.

* * *

Without great success, the Most Overconfident One tried to pull himself towards the pool containing the spheres. However, he only managed a few inches before his strength failed, his leaking blood lowering his already treacherously dwindled supply.

As the Overlord struggled, the captain entered the room and took in the spectacle before his eyes. "Will you look at that… piles of treasure, presumably a few JuJu items, and-" Momentarily confused by the large pool, Vonvarr frowned. "Guess the ancient guy liked swimming in his treasury; a bit odd, but I'm sure rich people from hundreds of years ago had some other weird habits as well."

Stopping alongside the struggling man, the Marine continued to revel in the sight of the luxuries. Once most of the glory was absorbed, he stomped on the wounded man's back to quell the struggling, and then kicked him in the side to make sure he didn't try again for a few more seconds.

"Quite a haul, isn't it?" Vonvarr swept one arm around the room, putting his boot back on the Overlord while making sure he stayed within the sights of the rifle. "Almost makes the centuries of manpower dedicated to protecting this rock worth it. But though my superiors may disagree somewhat, I'm not _entirely_ certain it was worth the death of _half_ my _crew!_" On the last word, Vonvarr slammed his foot onto the most recent wound sported by his weakened opponent.

Grunting as he was crushed back to the ground, the Overlord struggled to maintain a clear head. Reaching forward again, he endeavored to pull himself towards the water- though his previously slow progress was made even more sluggish due to being half stood upon.

"You know," His mind and body not at full health, Vonvarr began a monologue in his partial daze. "I'm the captain of what might be called a specialist crew. If the records are to be believed, then it came into being during the final stages of the Min Leader's presence- dedicated solely to eradicating said Leader. In that first crew, several highly experienced individuals were collected, almost every one of them a known name. Their first mission was to capture vessels on loan to the Leader and plunder any items that could be used against him, since their means of combat back then were… less than effective against that particular foe."

Inching forward, Steve struggled to crawl while barely paying attention to the other man who had lost considerable quantities of blood.

"Six ships, they stole. Only two of which had anything they were looking for- fortunately, they were both quite well loaded down." Stabbing the man through an armored bicep before raising the rifle, Vonvarr ran a finger along the flat of the dagger he'd replaced the previous bayonet with. "Of course, they could only guess as to what their effects were- whatever the then-captain deemed possibly worthless in combat was used to test the capabilities of the other items. A few of those spares made it through the testing- only to be tested on again more recently."

Out of the corner of his eye, the Giant Slayer saw a slight blink of light from a far corner of the room. Though briefly flickering once more, the glow failed to illuminate what it was coming from.

"It's only because of those fodder items that more… modern methods were put in place." To accentuate his point, the Marine pointed the rifle back down and shot a prong off the helmet of his captive. "It took quite a bit of pleading to get them to clear the funding- heh, a once respected unit of the Marines now has to bargain in order to get modern equipment developed."

Staring at the small, smoking hole in the floor, the Most Overconfident Master clenched his teeth and reached forward once more, only to have his wound stomped on again.

"Back in the-" Vonvarr crushed his boot heel against the man's back, "-early days, the squad was taken seriously! Even for many years after the end of the Leader problem, they got good funding and a shiny name once in a while. Nowadays? _HAH!_ We're a joke of the Marines! Instead of famous names, we get sent _in_famous men who missed their target a few too many times! Our funding barely covers maintenance to the ship- oh, the _ship_! Early days? Crew had a battleship! Now? A caravel! A blast damned _caravel_! An old one, even! About four hundred years ago, they 'reassigned' the privileges to the big ships, and every few generations of captain they swap the privilege to allow something smaller, more worn."

Grasping in vain for the edge of the pool, the Overlord glared at the stubbornly distant water.

"Where was I… ah! Modernized stuff. See, the Marines are a peculiar bunch," Leaning forward, the captain kept one boot on the man's back. "No matter how many riflemen they have shooting, it just doesn't seem to work on the more famous vagabonds. It's amazing how inaccurate a man can be- and when they actually _do_ manage to hit their target? More often than not, there's some Devil Fruit ability that protects the buggers. See, not long ago, someone finally got it into their mind, 'hey! Maybe we could at least eliminate the Devil Fruit invulnerability factor!' and funded attempts to cut Seastone –the only thing that neutralizes Fruits, other than water and elemental shenanigans- into bullets. Now, this would have made everything easier if Seastone wasn't a really freaking dense material."

Tapping one gauntleted finger against the ground with impatience, Steve waited for the guy to finish talking and move his boot.

"They slowly, slowly produced bullets of Seastone- but _then_ they had to test them, and as you can probably imagine not many Fruit users volunteered to be shot. So, after many hundreds of years of making us the laughingstock of the fleet, they noticed that my unit had at least one perk: we had made some _damned_ good marksmen out of the poor excuses they'd sent us. Kind of had to do something productive, we've had to fish using our guns since they revoked our fishing rod budget, and it's amazing how good your aim can become when your dinner depends on it. Anyway, after a bit of crafty negotiating, I got everybody in my crew a bag of a few Anti-Devil Fruit rounds- and I honestly thought they'd be used against a Fruit user. But, lo, you're an even bigger threat and it's even on my contract that a Jujuer has higher priority than pirates! It was an invigorating experience, learning of your presence."

"**I can imagine.**" Catching a glimpse of what caused the earlier light flicker, Steve tried to distract the man who held him down."**I'm wondering, was your life ever flipped or turned upside down?**"

Catching a hint of mockery from the tone, Vonvarr jabbed the man through a shoulder with his anti-magic knife onna gun.

* * *

As soon as Sanji opened the door, a bullet lit his cigarette and put a hole bigger than his thumb through the wall.

Not waiting to see where it came from, he slammed the door to the women's quarters shut and jumped over the railing to get to the lower deck, where he presumed the swordsman had gone.

Where the swordsman had gone and apparently gotten injured, as it seems. Most jarring was the fact that his swords _weren't in his hands_- the wound was bad enough for the convincingly indestructible man to _drop his weapons_.

Knowing that things had gotten _real_, Sanji changed his descent into an attack towards the nearest Marine.

As the chef dodged bullets and kicked people in the face, other members of the crew began to stir at the yells and gunfire. Once things began to compute, they figured out that the yells were coming from unfamiliar persons and began to stir with elevated alacrity.

They hadn't the foggiest of clues as to the events transpiring, barging through the doors from where they had previously been unconscious. Unfortunately for them, the sudden appearance of the black-suited individual had made the Marine gunners somewhat trigger-happy.

* * *

With another vain attempt to rise from the ground, Steve remained firmly planted to the floor under the boot of the Marine captain.

"No, you aren't going anywhere, you massacring scum- actually, 'scum' gives you a bit of credit… what's lower than scum, I wonder? Barnacles? Sewage? Ah, I got it! _Tax collectors._ Yes, that seems about right. You're a massacring tax collector, you know that?"

Deciding that the Marine was a bit more delirious than previously estimated, Steve put a large amount of his remaining strength into a single push to rise.

His effort worked, and Vonvarr was thrown off balance and backwards a small distance. Catching its cue, the light flared into solid existence from around a corner of gold, revealing itself to be a crystal imbedded into the pauldron of a suit of armor.

As the other set of armor shoulder-slammed his former repressor, the now free-to-move Overlord pulled himself forward and thrust one hand into the slightly sparkling water.

Almost immediately, this took its toll; large volumes of pent magic were absorbed by the Arcanium, and this meant active mana flow- which also meant that the damages made themselves abundantly obvious once more. Doing his best not to lose his focus amidst the spasms and power, Steve put the overflow of magic to use.

* * *

Unfortunately for the Dark Tower, a massive directed burst of magic slammed into its core from out of nowhere. Had it come from any direction, the recently installed Magiflectors would have diverted it towards the halfling residential areas and two problems would be dealt with- however, the Magiflectors weren't designed with trans-dimensional assaults in mind.

As the water from the Tower Heart's pool blasted into the bottom of the domed ceiling and the Tower Heart ricocheted around the throne room while glowing a very bright silvery blue color, Gnarl did his best to shuffle towards Giblet while yelling at the top of his decrepit lungs.

"_Why in the bloody hell is the Tower Heart flying around the room, you pathetic excuse even by Minion standards?_"

"_Giblet not know! Massive incoming magical burst! Seems unfocused for attack!_"

Hiding behind the Forge Master, the elderly Minion yelled into his ear. "_Maybe it's an incoming communication?_"

The younger Minion paused, then began nodding enthusiastically. "_Yes! Maybe, but too much inbound magic to convert into communication!_"

"_Try channeling the extra magic into the Intimidator!_"

With another nod, Giblet turned back to the jury-rigged control pedestal and moved his hands rapidly across its several dials and switches, ending on the yanking of a lever.

* * *

Far above the throne room, the spires of the Dark Tower began to shudder gently as the rest of the structure ceased its tremors. Gradually, the top of the Tower began to glow; after several seconds, a black beam of magic blasted into the sky, swirling and darkening the clouds. Lightning lanced across the atmosphere and thunder rumbled as the deformation of nature made itself visible over a span of hundreds of miles, terrifying the bejeezus out of anything that could comprehend fear.

* * *

"It stable now!"

Grinning, the older Minion gave the servants a thumbs-up. "Ladies, poker time!"

Across the room, the servants nudged the somewhat stabilized Tower Heart back towards its pool with their assorted lengths of fire-stokers and then whacked it downwards back into its puddle.

"**-**_**to the great blackened Abyss, Gnarl, if you don't answer the damned**_**-**"

"Master! It's, uh, good to hear from you again, even though it sounds like you're condemning me to-"

"_**Getting video**_**?**"

"No, sire, it just looks like the normal poo-" At this point, Gnarl realized that there were several Tower Heart-like objects in the water, and that the Overlord's gauntlet was visible in one corner. "… T-T-T…"

"_**Tower Hearts. Many. Draw off them**_**?**"

"It, uh, will require a piece of the original- in this case, likely several pieces, like a ring of many jewels or a crystal composed of several slightly different pieces. S-Sire, do have an idea of where you are?"

"_**Old and underwater, called 'Black Fortress'. How big a crystal**_**?**" The image shifted as the Master looked around the room, revealing large piles of gold and other items of high value.

"Probably about half the size of your fist." Gnarl struggled to contain his glee, the urgency conveyed from his Master's tone keeping him level. "Sire, you don't sound like you're in good-"

"_**Hole through chest. Many sword wounds. Armor's wrecked.**__" The image jolted. "__**A bit twitchy. Recharge repair scroll**_**?**"

"Um. Sire, are you in a hurry to have it recharged?"

"_**Quickly would be nice**_**.**"

"Then, the scroll probably isn't your best bet."

The Master was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his tone gave the impression he knew he was going to regret asking the question. "_**Why**_**?**"

"Well, sire, you see, the wizard who designed the repair scrolls… he…"

"**How, **_**Gnarl**_**.**"

"Uh, to recharge the scroll, sire, you'll need… a cleavage."

"… _**What**_**.**"

"The more buxom a woman the better, sire, but if you're in a hurry then-"

Abruptly, the image shivered and left Gnarl looking down towards the single Tower Heart in its pool.

Standing a few feet away, Giblet fiddled with the levers to no avail. "Line severed by Master, it no longer linking."

"He probably blocked the signal." Sighing softly, Gnarl looked to the skies that slowed their swirls and darkening.

* * *

Muttering gratuitously, the Wench Bane withdrew his arm from the pool and glanced around the piles of treasure. From behind came the sounds of a fight as the suit of armor clumsily evaded the swings of the Marine's bayonet, each _swish_ driving Steve to search just a little bit faster.

Skimming over the mounds, he almost stopped looking- but then he caught sight of what he sought, a shining gem of many colors. It sat alongside the pool, placed slightly away from the piles of treasure and atop a book.

Dragging himself over to it, the Infernal Majesty did his best not to let his injuries slow him- but they were many and his blood was seeping. The closer he got to the crystal the worse his vision and strength became, the less driving the commotion of combat and fading adrenaline pushed him.

After a length of time seemingly equivalent to living through Minion Poetry Day, the Great and Mighty Overlord reached for the multicolored gem, his vision half black and his arm shaking and drooping.

As soon as he _touched_ the gem, his weariness vanished faster than a Green during Bath Week.

Clutching his prize in a death grip, Steve forced himself to endure the flood of mana that slammed into his already loaded reserves. Feeling a sudden sympathy for those who got struck by lightning, his chest burned in pain as Health Regeneration went into a state of suicide overload, working faster than it could maintain stability. The Arcanium armor couldn't even spasm, the power was so tremendous.

Feeling refreshed yet exhausted at the same time, the literally _glowing_ Overlord rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet, crystal in hand. Not far away, the fight between the armor and Vonvarr was slowly experiencing a tipping of the scales as the Marine grew more accustomed to fighting with a bayonet, chipping pieces off his opponent.

Taking a wild guess, the Leader of the Fire Starters clutched the crystal in his right hand and held his left over his more bland gauntlet, preparing a Flamethrower against his own right wrist.

Thoroughly wishing he'd bought the anti-convection upgrade, the Peasant Pyromaniac endured his second hand-toasting that day.

* * *

Aboard the grass deck of the _Sunny_, some might have wished they'd stayed asleep.

Near the middle knelt the swordsman, his blades dropped and his hands attempting to slow the bleeding from several sizable holes in his chest, still attempting to rise despite his physical incapability to do so. Several feet away, a chef clutched at his legs, bleeding considerably from one too many Marines who had used their toned reflexes and swords to block.

Outside the door to the men's quarters, a rather terrified long-nosed individual knelt next to an unconscious blue-nosed… thing, his panic directed more at his injured comrade than his own wounded body. Near that pair and the Marines stood a rather confused shipwright, whose normally bulletproof front found itself sporting a few holes.

Standing in the doorway was a tall skeleton whose shocked stutters about his brain unable to comprehend things despite his not having a brain at all confused the Marines who held him immobilized at sword-point.

On an upper deck, a black-haired and vested individual stared in a barely comprehensive shock at his crewmates, any possible counterattack quelled by every Marine who held a weapon pointed at his friends.

Eerily silent after the storms of gunfire and yelling, the _Thousand Sunny_ bore only the sounds of the injured and a faint "Y-yohoho…"

* * *

(A/N)

... I'm noticing a pattern here.

In case anyone was wondering: the way I figure it, the Tower Hearts are like a kind of (magic) generator. While the liquid containing them normally wouldn't contain much runoff, the treasure room's pool holds _many hundred years'_ worth of slowly leaked mana from several very potent "generators".

And yes. The Sea Stone bullets are, quite basically, armor piercing and anti-Devil Fruit.

(End A/N)


	15. Alas, No Stargate

(A/N)

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT LATE OR ANYTHING

This chapter probably has several awkward moments or seems to move too quickly; my excuse is rushed writing.

(End A/N)

* * *

As he pushed the crystal into the partially molten Arcanium, it occurred to the Overlord that it may not have been entirely necessary to broil his appendage.

Putting the depressing thought aside, he dunked his scalding arm into the pool water to cool the metal. As the steam filled the air, Steve glanced at the animate suit of armor- it hadn't been holding its own very well, and its movements were rapidly becoming more dodges than attacks. Vonvarr had caught on to this, and was putting all he could into attacking rather than splitting it across defensive maneuvers.

Withdrawing his hand back from the water, the Great and Mighty Overlord tested the malleability of the metal using a finger on his other hand. He discovered it wasn't quite cooled, and pressed half-molten Arcanium against his wrist.

* * *

"I hope the Master doesn't try something silly."

"Like what?"

Leaning against a wall, the elderly Minion scratched his chin. "Such as getting into his head that he should melt his armor to join with the crystal. It's just effective just to hold, or even tie it to a portion of his armor- attempting to haphazardly forge it into his gear is quite risky because of the uncontrolled manner in which he'd be forced to do so. Plus, he needs to have the entire set on to use magic, so he'd have to wear whatever he'd trying to bond it to."

"That would suck," Giblet commented with a nod.

"Indeed it would, Giblet. Indeed it would..."

* * *

As he grit his teeth, two thoughts rolled through the Overlord's mind: _this sucks_ and _ow hot hot ow ow hot_. Delicacy with magic wasn't his strong point, yet there he was trying to form a miniature Shield between his gauntlet and his skin in order to push the hot metal back away.

Still dodging ever-nearing strikes, the armor's possessor was getting slightly impatient. "_Will you just help me out already! I can't do this for very long!_"

"Tax collectors! You're all a bunch of lowly, low-down, low _tax collectors!_"

"_Shut up!_"

* * *

With at least three splitting headaches and a body that felt unfairly sore after being asleep, an archaeologist slowly and painfully opened her eyes. Even more painfully, she shut her eyelids to wait for either the migraine to pass or the light to fade.

Wishing many deaths upon whatever created headaches, Robin prioritized her awareness: she was still alive, though the intensity of the migraine was almost making her desire otherwise. Curiously, she was laying on what felt like a wood floor and could vaguely hear the sound of the ocean, meaning she'd probably been moved back onto the _Sunny_.

Not recognizing any immediate danger, she recollected: old chamber. Steve. Blurry. Red crystal. Blurry. Fear of suffocation. Also a nightmare of sorts, but the contents were eluding her via migraine.

Switching back to the present, the archaeologist began focusing on sounds and feeling around her immediate vicinity. To one side, she felt the wrist and Log Pose of the navigator who seemed unconscious. On the other, some wooden construction.

Using the upturned desk pull herself off the floor, Robin listened to the voices coming from outside the room as she worked on recovering balance and restoring at least some strength.

"_Don't move!_"

"_He's going to- AKHAW!_"

"_Stop! We have your crew hostage! Stand d- HOKHA!_"

"_Fire a warning shot across his nose!_" A short moment later, the penetrating sound of a gunshot drove Robin to her knees. "_I said _across_ his nose, not _up _it!_"

"_Sorry s- WAKKHERGH!_"

Thoroughly pained by the noise, the archaeologist unsteadily stumbled towards the door, clutching the wall and anything she passed for support as the sounds of panicked men filled the air.

* * *

"Do _not_ shoot to kill! Prepare to fire Seastone bullets on my signal!" Raising one hand where the snipers could see, Baldrick backed rapidly away from the berserking pirate.

As he was about to drop his arm to give the signal, a door on the forecastle opened by the hand of a dark-haired woman whose other hand was held to her head.

Seemingly barely stable, she slowly descended from the forecastle and carefully crossed the grass deck, under the surprised eyes of the Marines- the rampaging pirate had also stopped, though he seemed more confused than surprised.

"R- Robin? Why-"

"Quiet. Headache. Please, no noise for a few moments." Saying this to both Baldrick and the vested pirate, she crossed the ship at a stagger, still clutching her head, and climbed the stairs to the aftcastle to disappear through another door.

Getting a hold of himself, the Marine in charge holstered his pistol and took a roll of papers out of his pocket. Murmuring to himself, Baldrick shuffled through them: "Roronoa, Chopper, Franky- aha! I _knew_ I'd seen her face somewhere recently..." Putting the posters back, he withdrew his handgun once more and turned back to the snipers in the _Bucket_ -which, he noticed, was slowly sinking- "Paramecia, no known invulnerability as far as intel suggests!"

Nodding to a pair of sneaky Marines, the sergeant checked his pistol's ammunition as the duo tackled and handcuffed the pirate captain.

Ignoring the Seastone-weakened protests of the pirate, Baldrick waited on the woman to return.

And waited.

And waited.

As he was about to go after her, the door she passed through re-opened. Looking slightly more collected, Nico Robin looked around the deck.

"It appears our doctor relocated the painkillers recently, sorry for the wait." Carrying a mobile medical kit, she descended the stairs and approached the nearest crewmate, the blond chef.

"N-now wait a minute! Don't move, or we'll shoot!"

As soon as he called out, she grimaced and put a hand to her head and kept walking. "Please keep it down."

"Like hell I'll-" Discarding words, Baldrick raised his pistol, aligning it for a nonlethal wound. Once his ideal location was targeted, he pulled the trigger.

Or, at least, tried to. Despite his attempts to the contrary, the trigger failed to move. Shaking the gun and trying again in vane, the Marine growled and looked at his weapon.

"What the...?" Blocking the movement of the trigger was a seemingly disembodied finger. Judging by the rest of the Marines that were looking at their guns in confusion, they were also having problems with appendages sprouting and blocking the trigger mechanisms.

"Sorry, but I'm in no mood to listen to gunshots right now." With a simultaneously apologetic and smug smile, the female pirate began bandaging the legs of a suddenly euphoric blond man.

* * *

Pulling his arm from the pool once more, the Overlord tapped his gauntlet- this time, he got a satisfactory clink instead of searing pain. Appreciative of this, he experimentally pointed his right palm at the far corner of the room, and tried casting a minor and simple spell he knew: Light Speck.

What he got instead of a fingernail-sized softly glowing orb was a room-wide flash of great color that seared his eyes and frightened the lunch out of a family of rats that were living in an old robe.

Making a mental note to concentrate on output, Steve blinked rapidly and looked for Vonvarr, who was also blinking at a quick rate. Nearby, the glowing orbs in the helmet of the animate armor were flickering as well.

"**Vonvarr! Where are you? Too many white splotches...**"

"Ditto, Jujuer."

"W_hy did you have to do a damned light signal spell as your test?_"

"**Simplest thing I know. Vonvarr! I challenge you to a duel as soon as we get our eyesight back!**"

"I accept, you collecting dirt bag!"

Staring down piles of gold until they realized it wasn't the enemy, the Marine and Overlord turned to face one another once more; one with a bayonet, the other with his Arcanium-clad semi-bare hands.

"**I can see you now, Marine man!**"

"Same here, uh, tax collecting magic man!"

"_Are you two seriously about to have a showd-_"

"**Quit the commentary and start the duel.**"

"_Since when do I have to- oh, fine. You two going to trash-talk each other, or can I-_"

"Certainly!" Narrowing his eyes, Vonvarr put on his best manic grin. "I'm gonna impale you so hard, your brains will be a return to your victims!"

Flaring his eyes extra-menacingly, Steve adopted an arrogant pose and clenched his right fist at the Marine. "**Bring it, ninny boy. I'll torch your rear so much, the lord of the Abyss will surrender his throne to me in the afterlife!**"

"_Done? Yes? Good, because that was some of the worst trash talk I've heard, ever._"

"Commentate not, talking armor!"

"_Fine. Go._"

Fortunately for Steve, magic moved faster than bullets. Raising an extra-dense Sanctuary, the Great and Mighty Overlord deflected several of the rounds that had previously torn through his armor- though unfortunately, even the increased density was not nearly enough to quell the excess mana. The Sanctuary, which normally only extended a few feet away, had been created wide enough to cover three-fourths of the distance to Vonvarr.

Seeing that his gun was doing squat, the Marine charged and attacked the shield directly with his anti-magic dagger-bayonet. Granted with the dispersion of the JuJu shield instead of the expected slight opening, Vonvarr continued his sprint.

Backpedaling and casting, Steve tried to slow Vonvarr down- double Sanctuaries, four layers of Shield, even upturning a loose stone did nothing to help.

Thoroughly hating himself, the Overlord stopped retreating and braced for impact.

He got stabbed in the chest.

All according to plan.

_Dammit,_ he thought to himself.

At the other end of the gun, the Marine displayed a slightly delirious smirk. "What's this? You giving in already, '_Steve_'?"

"_If you die, I am going to make sure you become a ghost so that I can kick your ass._"

Not feeling like talking while a dagger was stuck in his torso, Steve grunted in pain and raised a hand, grabbing the barrel of Vonvarr's rifle. Seeing that his enemy resisted yet, the Marine's smirk fell to be replaced by a suspicious glare.

Thoroughly wishing he'd thought of a different way to carry out his plan, Steve cast Fireball with the hand holding the rifle.

Under previous circumstances, the ensuing ball of heat was roughly about the size of his head.

Now, half the non-magical treasure in the room melted as an inferno five times taller than Steve soared across the room and dissipated against the stone wall.

Though his plan worked, the Overlord couldn't help but gape with his enemy at the sizzling stone and steaming gold. After a few seconds, the rest of his plan came back and he flicked his hand to get the molten metal off.

Brought back to his senses by the movement, Vonvarr leaped backwards a short distance and brought the rifle back to bear- and then noticed that his weapon was about half its previous length. "Ah..."

Pulling the dagger from his chest, Steve put on his best villainous grin of victory, even though his face was hidden by the helmet and cloth wrap. "**Can't do much with a melted boom-stick and no fancy knife, can you?**"

"N-no, not particularly, now that you mention it." Slowly stepping backward, Vonvarr's confidence visibly collapsed.

Raising one hand palm-out and compressing his new stab wound with the other, Steve did his best to put extra finesse into his spellwork as Vonvarr backpedaled more rapidly. Because he was also doing the spell a different way than normal, Steve couldn't think of a better one-liner because his concentration was devoted more to controlling the mana. "**I guess you...**"

"..."

With the final step completed, an inverted Sanctuary bubble appeared around Vonvarr's head; with a furrowed brow, the Marine glanced about his spherical helmet.

"... **are a bit hot-headed.**" With a snap of his fingers, Steve set off a Combustion within the confines of the defensive spell; he was thankful that only the fire was visible, as the Marine didn't even have time to scream.

"_Yeeeaaaaahhh that was lame._"

"**Quiet.**" Canceling the Combustion and Sanctuary, Steve turned to the remaining items in the room as the Marine's burned skull cracked against the stone floor. "**Is there something here I can use to repair my armor?**"

"_That low-grade stuff? Yeah, to your left- no, more to your right- ugh, over here._" Ending its possession of the armor, the entity formerly known as the Leaderess hovered over to a dark object near the base of one pile. "_I think it was called a 'monkey wrench'. Recovered from the same place as a device called a 'Sasha' and a 'Sentry', if memory serves._"

"**How does it... work?**" Cautiously, Steve hefted the object and turned it over, examining its shape.

"_Hold a magic item in one hand -that sword there should work, all it does is turn into a bunch of pink flowers- and, with the 'monkey wrench' in the other, whack the item you wish to repair. _Really_ whack it, though._"

Skeptical, the Overlord smacked the wider end of the object against the Arcanium on his torso. To his surprise, the holes in the armor shrank, and the armor itself even recovered some of its sheen. After several more whacks and half of another item after the first deteriorated, the Arcanium armor seemed as good as when the Impenetrable One had first commissioned it from Giblet- even his sword lost its chips and regained some chunks.

With his armor no longer in tatters, Steve knelt by the corpse of Vonvarr and flipped him onto his back, and began checking his pockets.

"_What are you looking for?_"

"**The guy was as bad off as I was, on the surface. I want to know if he has some healing object that allowed him to recover.**" After a few moments, he grunted and leaned back.

"**There's nothing else on him.**"

"_What's that on his clothing?_"

"**What's what?**"

"_There seems to be dark specks across his chest and arms._"

Lifting one of the former Marine's limbs, Steve inspected closer. "**They don't seem to follow a pattern, but... that color... **_**hrgh!**__"_ Irritated, he threw the arm back down and rose.

"_What are they?_"

"**Bastard had particles of my Arcanium on him. When you blasted my armor, the regenerative effect must have carried over to those small pieces.**"

"_That seems highly unlikely- then again, I once saw a man turn into a gigantic beetle._"

The Overlord's head tilted slightly. "**A... beetle?**"

"_Something called a 'Zoan' in this world. Speaking of worlds, we should get the rest of the runes activated._"

"**I've a better idea than walking across this accursed gigantic place.**" The Overlord raised his right arm and tapped the new installation. "**What if I blast the entire structure with mana?**"

"_... It's lazy, but it will most likely work._"

Encouraged, the armored man knelt and placed both hands upon the floor. Taking a deep breath, he channeled the contents of the multiple Hearts into the building.

* * *

With half of First Squad injured and he himself sporting a broken arm, Baldrick raised his sword to the woman's neck; she lay on the ground, clutching her arms after the Marines had started attacking the limbs and appendages that were growing everywhere.

Raising one leg to kick and further subdue the woman, Baldrick growled "Damn, I hate Devil Fruits." and began to swing his foot forward.

Before he could get good force going, the ship began to tremble and forced him to use both legs to remain steady. "What's going on?"

In response, the ship became more turbulent and threw the Marines to the deck. Pulling himself to the nearby starboard railing, the Sergeant looked around the nearby waters for what could be causing the unsteady waters.

After a moment of seeing nothing, he realized that there were growths along the base of the nearby island. Following his confused stare, he realized that the island was rising out of the water- and calling it an island was probably not correct.

Crawling away from the railing on his back, Sergeant Baldrick of Second Squad, subdivision of the Anti-JuJu Unit, stared in shock as the legendary Black Fortress' central tower rose from the waters of the Grand Line.

Although its splendor was slightly diminished by algae, barnacles, a few humongous squid and erosion, the sheer size was something to behold- many Marines came close to wetting themselves as the object of the captain's late-night stories ascended from the depths and, after a few moments, disappeared into the clouds.

Looking in all directions, Baldrick got an better impression of how truly large the structure was- the Fortress' wall was rising from the opposite side of the ship, a fair distance away. It rose, and kept rising until the brig-sloop shuddered onto the soil brought from the deep.

Lodged upright from the scattered debris of a crumbled section of the wall and a sub-tower, the _Thousand Sunny_ and conscious occupants gaped at the now colorful Black Fortress that blocked most of the sky in all directions but up.

* * *

"_So, either Knot installed way more carvings than I anticipated, you put more juju than necessary into the task, or the Black Fortress just rose way faster than it should have had any right to._"

Pushing himself off the floor, Steve barely heard the Leaderess after having had his ears pop several times in a row. "**Ow.**"

"_You'll get over it. So where is the Mystic Shifter?_"

"**Aboard the **_**Sunny**_**.**"

"Sunny_?_"

"_**Thousand Sunny**_**. Pirate vessel.**"

"_Ah. I presume it's nearby?_"

"**It should be; is there a way to get to it?**" Holding one gauntlet to his ear, the Overlord tried to clear his head by shaking it slightly.

"_There's magic hereabouts; of course there's a way._"

* * *

Steve thought the Fortress' swift rising was bad on his ears.

Then he went directly to sea level without the luxury of traveling through the elevations in between.

Only his sheer appreciation of a good entrance kept him from cradling his head and cursing loudly. As it was, he couldn't hear any of his surroundings for several seconds.

Taking stock through his luminescent and watering eyes, Steve noticed that things were not _quite_ as they were when he left. Most noticeably, there were Marines staring in shocked horror at both him and the soggy Fortress.

Feeling that attention needed to be more focused on his person since he had just appeared out of nowhere and all, the Overlord took his newly repaired Arcanium sword from its loop, making a point to scrape the flat of the blade against his cuisse.

The noise got a majority of the present capable attention spans, and accordingly, the expressions turned into confusion.

"**I bet most of you are wondering: **_**where'd he come from**_**? Well, to tell you the truth, in all the excitement I've kinda lost track myself. But seeing as this is a ship, traditionally sailed on water, and I wasn't here a moment ago, you've got to ask yourself: 'did he teleport?'. Well, did I, Marine?**"

"Y-yes?"

"**Damn right.**" Stabbing the man who spoke, the teleporting armored Overlord turned to the rest of the present company. "**I take it you're the Marines who worked under the late Captain Vonvarr?**"

An individual bearing slightly more elaborate garb than the rest raised his pistol. "'Late'? _You_ killed him?"

"**Unless he could survive having the fleshy parts of his head incinerated, yes, I killed him.**"

"And- and what about First Squad?"

"**Bunch of fellows with boom-sticks? Yeah, they're nice and toasty way up there. One might be alive, but seemed mindless from what saw.**"

"Captain's... dead..." The man looked to the sky for a moment, before focusing back on Steve and correcting his aim from where his arm had drooped. The expression of grief lasted mere seconds before it was replaced by a more composed, albeit vengeful, demeanor. "_Fire at will on the Jujuer!_"

Though he raised a shielding spell as quickly as he could, the Overlord did not get away unscathed; a few gouges found their place on his armor, marring the shiny look he'd just gotten back into it. Once the blasts stopped and the smoke cleared, he glared at the man and raised his left arm.

"**I just got this damned thing repaired.**" With the use of a limited Flamethrower, Steve blasted the Marine off the ship with a pillar of fire roughly his arm's length across. As the railing on the far side of the ship smoked and the fires across the grass deck slowly went out, he turned to the rest of the present Marine personnel standing around the Straw Hat pirates.

"**Anybody else want to worsen my day?**"

* * *

Some moments later, the last living non-pirate person aboard the _Thousand Sunny_ wiped his blade on the garments of a dead man before clipping it back on its loop.

Finally getting a good look at the crew, he sighed. "**Either you were all taken by surprise, or I severely underestimated most of you.**"

None of the conscious present responded. The captain looked barely awake, the skeleton was struggling to help Usopp stop the bleeding from Chopper while the archaeologist unsteadily rose, holding several hands over a bleeding arm.

"That the Fortress?"

"**Yup.**"

"It's a bit... large."

"**I was just noticing that.**"

"Many... items?"

"**Quite a few, actually.**"

"Any good for-" With a grimace, Robin shifted her arm. "-for healing?"

"**I'll ask.**" Tapping a button on a circular band around his wrist, Steve disappeared in a brief pillar of light. After a short while and another pillar of light, he returned holding a box which had "PILLS HERE" written upon it in large, blocky letters.

"**Apparently, chug all the contents of one bottle and one should feel better for a decent amount of time.**"

Skeptical, Robin took a bottle out of the container and looked at it with a raised eyebrow.

* * *

Some minutes and many bottles of capsules later the Straw Hat Pirates were either unconscious, in a drug-induced daze, or tending to those who were.

After some time probing the deck, Steve located the bag of items he had left there earlier; in the commotion, it had moved across the deck and had gotten itself lodged in between the banisters next to a stairway.

"You're leaving, I take it?"

"**Yes- though it's not what I came here for originally, the Black Fortress is a good find. Will most likely sink again if it's not taken back to where it used to be, though.**"

Glancing at the ocean that was visible through a whole in an old wall, the archaeologist frowned. "Would you mind terribly if you could get the _Sunny_ back in the water before you try taking the Fortress?"

"**Ah, certainly.**" Clonking over to the railing, Steve raised a hand in farewell. "**I thank you and the rest of the crew for the whole 'not leaving me to drown in the ocean' thing.**"

"We prob- _wait!_" Before she could finish her sentence, Robin had noticed something and tried to stop the Overlord- but he had already leaped from the side of the ship and had begun concentrating on his magic.

Despite her attempts to address the issue she saw, Robin could not do so before the ship levitated and flew back over the water.

* * *

With a quick glance at the hole he'd thrown the _Sunny_ through, the Overlord pressed the button on his wrist once more. Following some concentration and a blur of the scenery, he found himself back in the treasury and core Heart room of the Black Fortress.

"_Do you have the Shifter?_"

"**Indeed I do.**" Opening his makeshift sack, Steve withdrew the chunks of the Mystic Shifter. "**That 'wrench', will it fix it?**"

"_Possibly. Try._"

Following some whacks with the peculiar item, the Shifter was indeed mostly whole once more- however, the break line was still visible. "**Will this be... stable?**"

"_You want to try waiting any more? I don't think the Fortress can fly for much longer._"

"**Fine, fine.**" Taking the sphere in hand, the Overlord concentrated on expanding its coverage. Even the massive reserves contained within the Hearts was half depleted as the sphere grew to encompass the entire gargantuan fortification.

"_I just looked, you should have the entire place now._"

With a grunt, Steve braced himself for much chaos and began activating the Shifter. "**Here we go.**"

* * *

Gnarl was just minding his own business, using a piece of glass to burn small insects alive with the sun, when suddenly the sun was blocked by brief cloud of smoke.

Squinting at it, the elderly Minion beheld the cloud swiftly dissipating, revealing what looked like a massive clod of dirt.

Then it occurred to him that the clod was directly over the Blood Crater, half a day of hiking away.

Then the chunk of dirt began falling.

Before he threw himself to the ground, Gnarl saw a great stone wall and a massive spire atop the dirt clod; once it struck the earth, clouds of airborne dirt obscured any further detail of what they were.

Several moments later, an immense shockwave knocked half the contents of the Tower across their respective rooms.

* * *

"_Ahh, it's been such a long time since I beheld that maroon terrain!_"

Pulling himself out of the pile of gold and other items that were thrown to the wall, Steve shook his head and knocked the fragments of a broken mug out of his hair.

"_I will admit, I strongly doubted you most of the way- but hoo boy, you actually pulled this off!_" With a slightly more animate aura, the dead Leaderess hovered back near Steve.

"**Agh. Now that you're no longer in a rush and impatient, I've a question.**"

"_You've earned many more now, shoot._"

"_**Sources**_** mentioned nothing about a spouse, or of the body in the sarcophagus. Why?**"

"Sources? _Ah, that false logbook he wrote._"

"**False?**"

"_Well, not entirely. He just... didn't include whole truths. Because he suspected the Marines would try to breach the Fortress after his inevitable death, the old Leader wrote an only mostly true recount of his experiences, from the discovery of that Shifter to the causes of his death. He omitted certain details, such as who he was married to, in order to 'protect them'. And you know what? He sought to protect _me_, and I'm the one who kept on eye on things when he went off on his skirmishes against that armada... anyway, the book that was with the control crystal is the true logbook._"

"**Are you going to... dissipate now?**"

"_Aw, heck no. I'm going to stick around and make sure you and your adviser don't waste the resources of the Leader needlessly._"

"**Joy.**" Yanking his legs out of the mound of treasure, Steve dumped the coins out of his helmet and plonked it back on. "**Gnarl most likely knows of my return by now. This new crystal may interfere with the reception, so it's likely he can't communicate directly- but I'm certain he'll send search crews...**"

"W_hat's that on your leg?_"

With a frown, the Overlord glanced down to see that a straw hat with a red ribbon was caught on one of his greaves.

* * *

Most of the crew had returned to consciousness by the time a ball of light crashed into the water not far off.

After they stared towards that area for a few moments, the sphere surfaced; following a quick glance into a telescope, Usopp declared it to be Steve.

Pulled aboard the _Sunny_ as it sailed by, the Overlord dissipated the Shield he'd used to remain buoyant and tossed Luffy his hat back.

"Oh- you had it?"

"**By accident. Ta!**" Not allowing anybody to bid their farewell, the Overlord reactivated the Orb of Inter-Reality Transportation. Seeing only the agonized expression of one woman and the confused one of a young captain, he did not terribly regret his choice of a swift exit. He did, however, notice that the Orb suddenly cracked in his hands as the scenery disappeared.

As the haziness from the use of magic faded, Luffy sagged his shoulders and complained, "I didn't even get to wear his armor..."

Nearby, Robin cradled her head while in the fetal position.

* * *

It took Gnarl three and a half days of walking until he found something other than Minions to talk to. The first half-day after the appearance of the structure was dedicated to putting the contents of the Tower back together; the next day was spent organizing and moving a group of Minions over to explore the Fortress; the last two days were spent staring in wonder at the Fortress from a hole in a wall, marveling at the damp stone and the somewhat confused squids, and actually trying to find the central area of the building.

After having half the present Minions die from floods of water behind closed doors and several guesses and moments of being lost, Gnarl found something to aid his attempts to find the Master and the great number of Hearts that were in the Fortress.

Unfortunately, that 'something' was a dead woman who seemed quite disappointed that the 'Mins' had become relatively pitiful in recent years.

"I don't _care_ that the Reds can no longer blast fire out their ears! Where is the Master!"

"_Big guy? Used a sword? Big prongs on his helmet? Reddish smoke coming from a crystal on his left forearm?_"

"YES!"

"H_e went to return a hat a few days ago. Haven't seen him since._"

* * *

On his back between two seemingly endless shelves, Steve stared at the ridiculously high ceiling. He hurt in a few places, and the dust-sized particles of the Mystic Shifter lay scattered around him, disintegrated fragments of his only known way home.

Not feeling like moving, he didn't bother to immediately respond to the people that started to surround him with a combination of curious, confused and awed faces.

"Arty, since when did we have such a... _cool_ set of armor here?"

"We don't- we _didn't_." With an agitated glance at the younger male, the elder, spectacled and short-bearded man looked at the Arcanium armor with a contemplative confusion.

A young-looking girl quirked an eyebrow from near Steve's head. "Kind of looks like Sauron."

The younger man tilted his head. "It _does_, doesn't it? Oh, look- it's got two swords-"

"_Pete,_ Don't touch _anything_! We don't know where this came from, or if its an artifact with dangerous effects!"

"**I hate my luck.**"

"_Holy crap there's a guy in there!_"

Following a short time of panic from the other persons, Steve found himself covered in purple goo, still highly unappreciative of recent events.

_~~ End ~~_

* * *

(A/N)

Yes, end. Save for an eventual chapter chronicling the three and a half days of dimension-hopping, this story has reached its sorta-conclusion, with 'Steve' being mistaken for an artifact by the Warehouse 13 staff.

He never did get a Devil Fruit, did he?

(End ending A/N for the end of the chapter ending the story)


End file.
